Bound
by Penmora Zenith
Summary: Two years after the fire at the Opera House, Meg Giry has gone missing. Her mother seeks out the Phantom to search for her, but Erik, ignoring Madame Giry's warnings for regarding Meg's fragile mind, finds himself in the midst of a dangerous escapade.
1. Chapter 1

_I know, I am starting another story when I have two in progress already, but this story has been in my head for months, and I just had to start it. It's different, but I hope that you like it._

_I have to give a lot of credit to Tambalina for letting me adopt this idea from her story, _The Repercussions of Regret_. Thank you so much for allowing me to expand on your creativity!_

_

* * *

To the few people who knew him, it was no surprise that the darkest and earliest hours of the day were Erik's favorite. He savored the shroud of anonymity as he strolled the vacant avenues of the small, conservative little town in which he lived. He encountered no one on this chilly night in early spring, one of the few positive differences between Bonqueval and Paris, a city that was always alive. His breath was visible in the air as he slowly walked along the cobbled streets, bathed in an eerie glow of a fully peaked moon, his thoughts full of the work that lay ahead of him soon after the dawning of a new day. Realizing that it must be well past midnight, Erik glanced at his pocket watch beneath the dim light of the moon, the face of the gilded silver barely revealing the time, which was much later than expected._

After the disastrous outcome of _Don Juan Triumphant_, Erik had been issued a new identity and withdrew from Paris to the small village of Bonqueval, located on the edge of a forest and almost seventy miles outside of the heart of his creativity. It had been over two years since his unfortunate affair with Christine Daae, and as before, he lived his life mostly in seclusion. He even forsook his impeccably tailored suits for the more humble clothing worn by the locals in town, although he could not resist drawing out the old worn opera cloak on a few occasions.

Tonight was one of the few nights when Erik had dragged the old thing out, intending to repair some popped stitches, but instead he found himself gliding about the night as though he were hunting prey. He suspected that as the legend of his character began to filter outside of Paris, his identity would be discovered and he would be evicted once more, and his life would then resemble that of a nomad. Erik rarely thought of that night anymore, the night that Christine had finally rejected him after years of insecurity and false hopes. Anytime a small recollection would bubble to the surface of his memory, he would quickly shift his brain's attention to something, anything, that would take his mind off the pain. The thoughts that plagued him on this night were of certain repairs that needed to be undertaken on his property, and whether additional skill would be required for the task. He certainly hoped not as his disdain for humankind had hardly diminished.

Erik's heavy boots crunched along the partially frozen gravel path when he was within the visual range of his home. Surprise could not describe how he felt when he witnessed Antoinette Giry standing outside a parked carriage, clearly anxious and impatient for his return. He quickened his pace as his mind searched for possible motives as to her unexpected visit at such a late hour.

"Good heavens, Anne, what are you doing here at this time? Is everything all right?' he asked with deep concern.

"My daughter is missing, Erik," the strong-willed woman replied. "She has been gone for two weeks now." The tone of her voice gave Erik the suspicion that she somehow suspected himself responsible for the girl's disappearance.

"Have you contacted the police?" She was silent, but raised an eyebrow with the absurdity of the question. "Well, have they any leads?" he amended.

"I could not tell them the whole story. Something happened to her that night."

Erik cringed at the implication of her words. "Before you continue, come inside before you become sick."

He unlocked the door and bid her entrance to the cold and damp interior. He did not offer to take her coat right away, but stooped to a light a fire to warm the room in the newly reconstructed fireplace before heating some water in the kitchen for tea. He returned a few moments later to resume their conversation.

"She is not well, my Meg," she began hesitantly. Erik placed his hand over hers; noting the absence of warmth and the slight tremble within, and she took a few seconds to consider her words. "I am not sure if, in the chaos of escaping the fire, she was struck on the head, but she is now completely obsessed with you."

"With me?' he exclaimed incredulously, nearly spilling the hot tea in his lap. He knew he was a pretty extraordinary character, but for Meg Giry to become so sick like this was very tragic.

"Yes. She is delusional, Erik, as she thinks your old nickname for her of "Empress Giry" was meant to come true. She positively abhors Christine for her childish behavior, selfishness and disregard for others, and especially where you are concerned. I am afraid that she thinks she is in love with you."

"In love with me? But she hardly knows me, other than what you tell her!" Anne sipped her tea and nodded in agreement. Erik sat in startled wonderment, pondering what had transpired to turn the beautiful vivacious blonde into a crazed recluse. _"Meg Giry, little Meg, in love with me? But, why is that such a problem? Am I so unworthy of a human that I do not deserve to be loved? Perhaps Meg _does_ love me, does that have to make her delusional?"_

He expressed such thoughts to Antoinette, and she was positively outraged at his words, fighting to control her urge to throw the steaming tea in his face. "She does not remotely resemble the girl she once was! She has fled our home, and I am not certain where she has gone, although I am tempted to believe that she has taken up residence in your former home. I need you to find her and bring her back to me."

Erik was struggling with his emotions, wanting Meg's safety but extremely reluctant to go back to the terrible memories that awaited him there. "Anne, no, I cannot go. Please, send the police down there, but not me."

Wordlessly she rose from her chair and smacked him hard across the face. A bright white light appeared before Erik's eyes and he brought his hand to the stinging, unmasked portion of his face. "How dare you! I rescued you from a life of humiliation and torture, and for selfish reasons and a reluctance to let go of the past, you refuse to locate my only daughter. Go find her for it is you who caused this mental illness, one way or another!"

"Haven't the police checked my lair?" he asked desperately.

"No, I did not want to create a connection between the two of you for fear of her possible implication in the crimes. They know only that she has been missing for two weeks, and she has disappeared before, but not for this long a duration. I had hoped she would return on her own, otherwise I would have contacted you sooner."

Erik remained quiet, clearly at the mercy of his fears once more.

"If you do not do this for me," she continued slowly and seething with bitterness that filled Erik's eyes with fear.,"I will make sure that you are located by the police and that you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

The teacup shook so violently in Erik's hand that he accidentally spilled a small stream into his lap. Recovering himself, he fled to the kitchen and patted down his black wool trousers with a towel. He then returned to the living room to witness Antoinette stoically seated, her face a blank mask that hid her emotions well.

"Do not seek the threaten me, Antoinette Giry, for it appears that without my gracious assistance, your daughter will never be located. I will do this, though, because I am indebted to you for saving my life all of those years ago, and I know how much Meg means to you I will head into Paris in the morning to search for her. I will begin my search below the opera house, though I doubt that she would attempt to wander through the canal and debris, not to mention all of the traps. If my search is in vain, I will look amidst the other theatres and the brothels. Don't blanche like that, Anne, you don't know if she is living in a brothel, but she will have to earn a living at some point. I promise I will find her. Now perhaps you should head to the inn just a few miles from here, I'll pay for separate rooms for both you and the driver, and then we can embark early in the morning."

Antoinette agreed and was genuinely appreciative of Erik's efforts. They woke up the slumbering cab driver and informed him of their plans for the following morning, his enthusiasm restored at the prospect of more money.

"In the morning inform no one of either my encounter with you or Madame Giry," Erik sternly warned as he let a few more francs drop from his grasp.

"It ain't my business what you two do together in there," he smirked.

Erik was about to pummel the insolent cabby for his smart mouth when Antoinette grabbed his arm and rolled her eyes at the foul remark. "Thank you. Please get some rest, as I know how hard you work. My dear Meg is more cunning than I had realized, so please do not underestimate her."

"I will do my best, Anne, for her sake and yours."

He held the door as she climbed into the carriage, a fierce scowl once more settling across her aging features. As he watched the cab ride further down the road, he recalled the condescending words as they echoed within his head.

"_You will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."_


	2. Chapter 2

In his solitude, Erik had grown to fear the wrath of the police, perhaps due to the fact that he was no longer driven to perform the impossible for his love. He had been willing to do anything for the love of Christine, putting himself in danger numerous times on her behalf, and now with nothing to show for it, he was afraid for his own mortality. He wasn't as heart sick as when he had initially been abandoned by Christine, and in time had actually come to enjoy his quiet lifestyle in Bonqueval, though he was still mindful to look over his shoulder. Many townspeople were suspicious of the brooding masked man, although there were a few extroverted people who overlooked his odd appearance and would converse with him upon entry into their shops.

There had even been a woman, Alison, whom Erik had come to secretly admire, though he was more than just a little hesitant at considering a courtship with her. She worked as a seamstress in the small shop where he purchased his clothes, and he was actually astonished one day when the plump brunette had struck up a conversation regarding his recent move to the area. She had never mentioned his mask, and he quickly felt secure within her company, a feeling that Erik had never really felt before. He had soon begun to look forward to seeing her in the store until she casually mentioned that her father had arranged a marriage for her much further south in Montpellier. Alison seemed indifferent to the contract, but Erik felt loneliness creep in once more after she left the town a few days before her wedding. By no means was he heartbroken at the news, but she had been his closest friend here in Bonqueval.

As he delved into the thoughts of the life he had come to know, he had set about tidying up his home before his morning departure. He would have to ask Anne to take care of his home in the event that this search progressed longer than anticipated. He grabbed a few large satchels of money and tucked them within the secure pouches that lined his now shabby cloak. But as he was rushing around in his haste, he knew the hour to be late, and he could feel his body become increasingly fatigued.

When at last his affairs were in order, he ascended the creaking wooden staircase, stopping momentarily to remove a splinter from his index finger acquired from running his hand over the rickety banister. Upon resolving to repair it once he returned, he entered his drafty bedroom and began to undress, choosing to sleep in a very humble cotton nightshirt as opposed to his Oriental embroidered robe and sleeping clothes of his previous life. The sheets were not sleek black silk, but instead a gently worn flannel that had yielded Erik the warmth of the coldest snowy nights in the French countryside. _"Anne would surely be stunned if she could see these little details of my life,"_ he thought ironically.

Sleep came easily to him on that night, despite the arduous task that would take over his life for an indeterminate amount of time. He arose at the same time each morning, when the rooster of his neighbor Pierre Everard would crow at sunrise. He quickly dressed and ate a meager breakfast, and with preparations already in order, he simply waited until Antoinette and the coach driver returned. He did not bother with much luggage, figuring that if he was gone for a long time, he could purchase whatever else he would need.

Pierre Everard was out in the barn before dawn and approached the trio when Anne and the driver arrived. "Where are you headed this early, monsieur?" Pierre asked after their parcels had been loaded. Pierre was a kind but curious man in his early twenties, just beginning his life as a farmer on the land that he had inherited. Pierre had sold Anne Giry the cottage in order to pay for the care of his ever-growing young family.

"I am in search of someone," Erik answered truthfully. "I do not know how long I will be gone, but if I am not back before May, I pray that Julia has a healthy delivery and child. And do not allow me to find that my home has been sold before I've returned!" he added jokingly.

"At the rate in which my family grows, I might reclaim it to sell again! Our third child already! Thank you for your consideration for my wife's well being, and I wish you a safe and successful journey."

Erik nodded and tossed a small purse of coins to the father-to-be. Pierre looked at him curiously and Erik shouted, "For being a father, a man that I could never hope to be! Bless you both." Without another word, he climbed into the carriage and seated himself opposite Antoinette as they began their 68-kilometer trek to Paris.

"That was an uncharacteristic demonstration of gratitude," Anne observed.

"He has been kind to me. He sold you the cottage on my behalf without knowing my reputation or myself. He was wary at first but soon extended his hand as a good neighbor. He can't seem to control his libido, and now he is going to have a third child in as many years. With the kindness he has shown me, I do my best to repay him however possible."

Anne nodded and stared out the window for a few minutes, seemingly losing herself in the frozen fields. Then she said very softly, "I was a little worried that you might not agree to this."

"Do you honestly think that I would have neglected to assist you in so desperate an hour of your life?" he asked incredulously.

"No, Erik, I knew that you would have assisted me or else I would not have dared show up on your doorstep. I guess I expected more…resistance from you. I thought that you would have ranted about me being a bad mother for her running away, in that I never gave her enough support or individual attention, raising her only as another ballerina."

"I would never say that. Where did you get that idea from?" he asked worriedly.

"Meg. She said that I favored Christine over her and wanted her success over that of my own daughter's."

"Christine was an awful dancer," Erik chuckled. "Meg certainly outshone her in that respect. La Sorelli was still the principle dancer and Christine was lucky in that they had been looking for a while for a replacement for Carlotta. It was simply an opportune time," he reasoned.

"You would be amazed at how much Meg has changed. She simply adores you," she responded coolly. It was evident that despite her mixture of bitterness and gratitude, she somehow blamed him for all of this."

"And what does that mean?" he demanded. "Are all of your threats nothing more than a hollow ruse to drag me back to the city of my misery?"

"No. If you show your face to me or around these streets without me first having seen my daughter, justice will at last be brought to the victims of the fire by means of your head dangling from your own noose," she seethed. "Perhaps they would even dust off the old guillotine for so infamous a criminal such as yourself."

"And why are you turning your aggression on me? I did not chase after your daughter so I can hardly be held accountable for her delusional state. I am sorry for both of you and will endeavor to locate her, but do not seek to burden me with guilt that is wrongly placed!"

Antoinette had nothing to say, as she could not face the truth spoken by both Erik and Meg. They traveled the rest of the way in silence, Erik taking the opportunity to get some more sleep. He dozed for awhile before being jolted awake by a deep hole in the road which rocked the cab, noting with dismay that there was still an hour left of the bumpy carriage ride before their rendezvous a block from the opera house. When at last they did arrive within the fashionable district filled with boutiques and cafes, Erik parted ways with Antoinette.

"Do take care for her and yourself, and try not to stir up any trouble," she warned like a worried mother.

Erik smiled at her for her concern with his well-being. "I will, and I will bring her back."

A grim line set across her face as the carriage pulled away, causing him to frown in confusion. The streets were filling with people, shopkeepers and customers alike, and feeling suddenly vulnerable, Erik made the short walk to the opera house.

The exterior was still intact, though charred around the empty windows, and he heaved a defeated sigh at the shell of the former musical center of Europe. _"There is no one to blame but myself,"_ he finally admitted after two years. _"Meg would still be the sweet young girl, and my wonderful home would still sparkle in all its glory."_

Reminding himself that self-pity was not his motive for being there, he quickly glanced around before darting towards the chapel window. He had intended to use this as his entrance, but the once beautiful stained glass was now a smoky black, where it remained intact, and boards crossed over the hole so that looters and squatters might not enter. Erik had no useful tools with him to pry the pieces loose. Dismayed, he needed to find an alternative means of entrance.

"If Meg truly has been coming here, there will be another accessible entrance."

At last he found one towards the back, though he would have missed it had he not tripped. He was walking slowly as he searched his leather duffel bag and stumbled as what felt like a large rock made contact with his boots. He let out a yelp of pain until he realized that the rock was propping open a sewer grate, cleverly camouflaged along the building. Erik was needlessly surprised as he though that he had discovered all of the entrances, apparent and hidden, throughout his years residing in the structure.

Erik lifted the painted wrought iron, pausing to marvel at the craftsmanship. The ceiling was very low, so he had to duck his head and stoop his back down the short passageway until he could hear the sound of dripping water. _"That must be from the broken plumbing lines. That water will eventually make its way down the bottom cellar."_ The narrow tunnel gave way to a much larger chamber that Erik recognized as a primary access stairwell to the additional cellars below. He yanked the strap of the bag up over his shoulder and prepared for a long descent down the concrete steps.

The steps underfoot were intermittently ridden with soot and broken splinters from the floorboard, and he had to take great care so as not to slip on the debris. He looked above him as he continued further down and was disheartened to see that much of the ceiling above him had collapsed. There were some holes punctured in the cement ceiling, which is how Erik presumed the trash fell all this way, leaving nothing but a vast, depressing blackness replacing the once ornately-sculpted facades.

Once more pushing his grief aside, he pressed on for an substantial length of time before he finally emerged in the fifth cellar. Erik was about to call out for Meg, then thought better of it should she react poorly to his sudden reappearance in her life. He noticed that the gondola was not tied to the dock, as it should have been after Christine's escape with the boy. This meant that it was likely that Meg was utilizing it, and also that he would have to climb and walk the narrow ledges along the canals. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and after nearly slipping a few times, managed to boost a leg up on the slimy rocks, pulling himself up to a crouch.

Erik surveyed the scene grimly. He still knew the way back to his home, which would always be ingrained within his memory, but he regarded Antoinette's words with caution. There were spring-loaded traps around the many caverns, and he was sure that there were some that he may have forgotten, but what about Meg? What if she had somehow created her own, or much worse, fallen victim to one of his? _"I would have to flee France altogether if that were the case,"_ he thought worriedly.

His eyes were now accustomed to the darkness and he felt along the damp wall to ensure that he did not lose his traction along the moist ground. He progressed this way further along until he was sure that he was very close to his home. He had not encountered any traps, but it was more likely that they would be closer to his former dwelling anyway. Erik crept at an agonizingly slow pace so as not to make any noise, but then, to his wonder, there was a gap in the wall where a small piece of stone was missing. Before he could withdraw his hand, a larger piece of stone crashed down upon it, the cracking of bones muffled by his scream of astonishment and pain. He used his left hand to try and pry his way loose but it was not strong enough on its own. His footing had been precarious and in his panic it had become unstable from the wet surface below, and falling to his knees, he smacked his head against the masonry. His aching skull momentarily diminished the pain in his hand and wrist as he struggled to remain conscious and Erik remained in that position until the throbbing subsided and he felt able to stand again.

Meg, on the other hand, had other ideas and watched the whole scene unfold in amusement as her plan seemed to be unfolding perfectly. She had tracked her prey for about half of his journey on the fifth level, and now he had finally sprung one of her traps. She knew that he was not completely recovered from his head injury and chose the opportunity to pounce. She tiptoed up behind him and covered his mouth with an ether-soaked rag. Unable to fend off her attack with only one arm, Erik quickly succumbed to the effects of the liquid, and she caught him before he tore his arm off. She pressed the release button that had been just out of his reach, and she took the bloody flesh in her hands. The rock had been cut out in the center so his fingers were undamaged, but the wrist was badly gashed, misshapen and swollen. She figured that the wrist bones were probably broken, and that he would be in great pain when he awoke, and struggled to drag his deadweight down the short corridor and to the master bedroom of his previous home.


	3. Chapter 3

Before anything else, Erik realized that his wrist was in aching considerably. He groaned and opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times and wondering why the Hell he was back in his old home. He moved to sit upright in bed, but he could only stretch so far before his realized that his arms were immobilized due to the secure restraints that pinned him to the bed. Heavy linked chain, presumably the ones that used to rig the scenery flats, were wrapped around his wrists and ankles, and they bound him to the tall wooden bedposts. He saw that the hand he damaged was clearly swollen and had been wrapped meticulously in medical gauze. Erik could feel a lump in his throat as he was trying to suppress the sense of panic that he was quickly beginning to feel. With no other obvious options, Erik began to call out the name of the only person crazy enough to inhabit this place.

"Erik, you're awake!" Meg spoke warmly as she entered the room. "I administered some medicine to help ease the pain, and I think I set the bone correctly so that it heals all right. I must say that your medical texts are excellent and I-."

"What the Hell do you think you're doing with me?" he snarled.

Meg smiled sweetly as though she were a child trying to earn a treat. "Don't you see? We truly are meant to be together! You came in search for me, to make me your bride!" She bent down from her place at his side and kissed him gently on the forehead. It was then that Erik realized that she had removed his greatest defense; his mask.

"My mask!" he shrieked. "Give me my mask!" He began to jerk around wildly, trying desperately to get at her and make her see reason.

"But I love you just the same without it. Christine was so shallow in that respect, but I much prefer to see your whole face. I would be such a good wife to you."

"A good wife? Does a wife chain her husband to the bed? Does she set traps that nearly sever their limbs? I was sent by your mother to bring you back home, not to marry you! Where on Earth did you get this notion of marriage from?"

"You!" she replied joyfully as she sat down beside him and began stroking his hair. "You used to send me little notes addressed to _"Empress Marguerite Giry,"_ and little trinkets. You would defend me against the wicked girls who though that I was an awkward dancer and that I only got the position because of my mother. When I was heartbroken that Jean-Luc Roux didn't love me, you sent me that little letter saying that I deserved so much more and would one day find a better man. I went along with all those silly stories the girls used to tell, but now I realize that you were referring to being with you!"

"No, Meg, you misunderstand-."

"No I'm not! Christine was completely wrong for you; I can appreciate your talent and devotion so much more than she ever could. My mother says that you have been alone your whole life, and I can remedy that. I can be by your side as your mate."

"Please, just release me and we can go back to your mother's home. She is so worried about you," he said tiredly. It was clear to him that Meg was more delusional that he had given Anne credit for. "She loves you so much, and I promise I won't leave you."

Meg hesitated for a moment, clearly thinking his words over in her head. "No," she replied finally. "I am afraid I cannot go back to the life that I once used to live. You will escape if I let you, and I cannot lose you. As for my mother, she does not care at all about how I feel. She was always stricter with me than with the other dancers, and then when Christine began singing, I was all but forgotten! I was there to boost the girl's self-esteem, to be her friend when she had no one else, and to put my feelings aside in consideration for her. She took the adoration of my mother as well as you, and now she has gone and you both seek to abandon me!"

"No one is abandoning you, Meg. Your mother was so upset when you went missing, and I give you my word that I will remain loyal to both your mother and yourself. It was very considerate of you to sacrifice yourself and your desires for the sake of Christine, and I wish that she had appreciated everything more like you say." He was trying to sympathize with his captor in hopes of release, though he knew that he would have to tread carefully or risk unleashing her wraith.

"Damn her!" Meg exclaimed. "What have all of my sacrifices done for me, or for any of us? I have no career because she had to steal the spotlight. Maman cannot find work now because she is considered too old to do anything but seamstress work. And you, what has she reduced you to? For _ten years_ you trained her, you demanded that she receive the leads, you murdered two men and destroyed an opera house, all for her! And she has repaid us, repaid you, by marrying nobility and leaving us all behind! She has never once tried to contact myself or my mother, the two people who were the only known family that she had left." It was apparent that Meg was disgruntled from her lack of attention from both her mother and best friend, and Erik began to see that she had begun to harbor bitterness to the world, much like he had done so many years ago.

"You are such a beautiful girl, you do not want to waste your life alone, dwelling on bitter and miserable memories. That is just what I have done, and this is the life that I do not want for you."

Meg smiled through her tears and leaned her face closer to his. "Don't you see? We are made for each other." She touched her lips to Erik's and kissed him full on the lips. He tried to protest but her mouth moved over his, preventing the words from being formed, but he did not give in, and she broke away, a little disappointed. "You deny me now, but you will come to realize soon enough that I am yours, heart, body and soul. We can talk about that later, though, as I have to prepare your supper and then I will change your bandages."

Meg scurried out of the master bedroom and down the hall to where Erik's modest kitchen was located. He laid his head back down once more as he heard her flinging the cupboards open, and tested the durability of his restraints once more. He noticed that a second, longer chain was wrapped around his right wrist and that the slack pooled on the floor at his bedside. His left ankle was secured in a similar fashion. He set his mind to work in trying to figure out methods of escape, but they all required the ability to move. Could he perhaps lull Meg into a trance using his voice in the same way he had tried to seduce Christine? Even in Meg's state of insanity she seemed more full of self-pride than had the naïve, orphaned brunette.

It was clear that he did not heed Anne's warnings seriously, although there was not much that he could have done to defend himself with his hand trapped in a block of stone.

It was at that point that Meg reentered the room with a wet cloth and some bandages. "You have been asleep for quite some time, and I need to look at your injuries once more," she said soothingly. She crossed to the other side of the large bed and released him from the more restrictive chains. Searing pains began to shoot up his arm and Erik knew that he was in no position to threaten his captor at this point. She laid the damaged hand down at his side and carefully began to unwrap the tidy dressings. When she removed them Erik could see a deep gash along the joint and could see some neat but makeshift stitches.

Meg noticed him flinch and apologized for the damage she had caused in her pursuit. "I am very sorry that your wrist is broken, and I had hoped that you would trigger one of the safer traps. It seems like the break is clean, not shattered, and with your medical textbooks being so detailed, I was able to set the bone properly. As long as infection does not set in, it should be completely healed in eight to ten weeks, due to its severity."

Though Erik was pleased at her medical skills and ability to comprehend the book, his hand would have been perfectly all right if it hadn't been for her crazed obsession. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice.

"So that your wrist is not permanently damaged. I-."

"No! I meant holding me prisoner down here? Why did you choose to leave your mother?"

"I told you before that she neither understood nor approved of my love for you. She would not entertain the thought of a courtship between us and she refused to tell me of your whereabouts. I thought that you might come back here at some point, so I chose to reside here until you arrived, and look! You're here!"

"Something must have happened to you to make you think this way, and I am not talking about your jealousy of Christine. Did something happen to you the night of the fire?' he asked sincerely.

"Are you suggesting that I am crazy because I was hit on the head or something?" she snarled. "Are you saying that my love is not genuine, just a figment of my imagination? Why does everyone doubt me when I know it all so clearly now?"

When he said nothing, her lackluster eyes began to swell with tears, and unleashing a wounded cry, she slapped him hard. Erik was completely stunned at her turn in behavior, uncharacteristic for either aspect of her personality, and she drew back her hand in horrified shock.

"Oh Erik, I am so sorry! How could I have done that my love? I was angry, yes, but I love you and did not mean to hurt you. Please, my dearest, do not be upset with me. Dinner is just about ready and I will bring it to you, is that all right? It is a nice hearty stew, and I am sure that you must be so hungry." She fluttered out of the room, leaving Erik behind in a greater state of confusion.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks to Cymbidium for her assistance with this chapter._

* * *

Erik cursed himself now for not heeding Anne's warnings of the danger he would be encountering. _"Am I to spend my days confined to this damn bed? When I do not come back, will she think to send men down here to search for her daughter?" _Erik could feel that he was working himself into a state of panic and knew that should he lose his senses, great harm could come to both of them should his emotions not be kept at bay.

In an attempt to ease the thundering of his frantically beating heart, he glanced around the room to gather his surroundings and see if the room had been altered in a fashion that might be to his advantage. He was not certain of the status of the rest of his home, but this sanctuary appeared to have been left unscathed from the attack of the mob, and for that he was grateful at least. The finely embroidered tapestries that he'd purchased in the Middle East were scarcely touched and hung adjacent to the large wooden bed, and he glimpsed his clothes still neatly folded in the armoire through the gap in the cabinet door. The scent in the air carried a heavy odor of mustiness and mold from years without inhabitance and he assumed that this was one task that Meg had not been able to accomplish before his unscheduled arrival. A small candle burned through the adjoining doorway, and he was glad that he had thought to attach a master bath onto this room. _"I can't imagine how I would bathe and relieve myself otherwise,"_ mused Erik.

His stomach suddenly grumbled loudly as he had not eaten since shortly before he left his home, and it struck him that he was completely unaware of the duration of time that he had been imprisoned here. His bladder had not yet burst, so he could only assume that he had been held for less than a day, and sadly pondered if he would ever see daylight again.

He had been holed up in this place for over two decades and had adapted to little or no sunlight, but now that he had been out within society for two years, he found that he missed the way the golden rays would shine through the maple trees in front of his home in the spring. He might never see Pierre and his newborn and wondered if he would even be missed from the sleepy little town that he had grown to love. Erik was surprised that he had grown to care once again about public opinion of himself, and longed for the freedom that he had once taken advantage of.

"_Is it not ironic that as soon as one straightens their life out, something occurs and it takes a great deal of time to solve the puzzle and set things right again? Such is the vicious cycle of life."_ Erik imagined that he must make a pretty comical scene to any outsider that might stumble his way; chained to a bed, shirt unbuttoned and open, waiting on a voluptuous blonde who was completely enamored with him to bring him dinner and wait on him hand and foot. The absurdity of the situation nearly made him laugh out loud.

"Did you say something, darling?" Meg inquired sweetly from just a few rooms away.

Had he been talking out loud? Did he really lose his mind already? "It was nothing," he grumbled, and she walked in a minute later with a steaming bowl of soup.

"I hope you like this, I bought fresh beef, poultry and vegetables yesterday from the market. I'm afraid that I had to use some of the money that had been stored down here, but since I was using it for you and food is a necessity for survival, I did not think you would mind so much." She sat down by his side with the tray perched on her lap, and slowly brought the spoon to his mouth. Erik was fearful that it had been poisoned, but his vacant stomach seemed in control of his lips and she shoved the hot metal inside. He jerked his head back and cursed as he burned both his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and Meg quickly had him drink a few gulps of the icy water she held for him.

"That was hot!" he said. "Let my food cool first, woman, before you serve it to me!"

"I'm sorry, Erik, I wasn't thinking and I knew you'd be hungry after such a long day," she said downheartedly. She looked pathetic and dejected, clearly angry with herself for ruining her first attempt to make amends with the man she loved.

"Please don't do that again. It was pretty good otherwise," he mumbled. He ate a few more bites before he asked, "How long have I been down here?"

"It is 11:00 in the evening now, and I brought you here just after noon. You have been sleeping off the ether since then."

He eyed her suspiciously. "How exactly were you able to get me here anyway? I'm not a man of small stature."

"It was a struggle," Meg shrugged. "There was a button on the wall just out of your reach that would raise the block trapping your hand. I pushed it and caught you before you slipped into the water. I couldn't risk you seeing me sneak up on you in the boat, so I tore off part of my dress to bind your hand, and had to drag you back myself. I had an additional medicine bottle with me in case you were resistant to the otherwise potent effects of ether, but I did not require its use. I hauled you back to what I assumed was your bedroom by the black and red ominous décor, and using the old chains that held the set together, I fastened you to the bed. Do not underestimate the physical strength of a ballerina, monsieur, for my mother trained us very well."

She had finished feeding him as she relayed the details of his capture, and used the bottom corner of her heavily starched apron to dab at the corners of his mouth. "I hope you enjoyed your supper. I have spent much time here trying to cook. Maman began to teach me once we were no longer employed at the opera house with the hope that I could possibly be a member of the servant staff within a wealthy home in Paris. That never happened as a former ballet tart would jeopardize an otherwise good aristocratic name, but I retained my culinary skills, and find that they are good skills to possess when trying to please a husband," she winked.

"I am not your husband, Meg!"

"No, but we are playing at it. We are not normal members of society and therefore do not have to conform to their social standards of morality and acceptance."

"Meg, how much clearer do I have to say it?" he growled. "I do not love you and I do not wish to marry you!"

"Regardless, it does not seem like you have much of a choice as you are the one in manacles, and I am in possession of the key," she stated coolly. "We may never be married, but I will never let you go."

She left the room, instilling a sense of fear in Erik for what she might do next, but returned moments later with a few harmless books. She placed one in his lap and curled up next to him on the large bed with a tattered copy of a romance novel.

"And how am I to read this if I am tied up?" he asked bitterly.

"That's not my problem," she replied without as much as a glance in his direction. "I think that you should show a little more appreciation and gratitude, and then perhaps I might be able to assist you."

"I do not require your help, and I will spend my time formulating a plan for our escape. Your place is with your mother, Meg Giry."

"For God's sake, stop mentioning her! All of my life I have relied on her; I should be a wife and mother by now if she were not meddlesome in my affairs! She wishes nothing for my happiness as I am kept around to prevent her from being alone and dying with no one by her side." Meg violently shut her book and straddled her prisoner, grabbing him by the dirty ripped collar and peered straight into his deep eyes. "Dammit, Erik, I need you, you are my salvation! It all came clear to me down here after Christine and Raoul fled and you remained hidden. I picked up your discarded mask and realized that you were living in the emptiness that I felt but dared not reveal to anyone. We are one and the same, and we belong together."

"Get off of me!" he yelled in her face and shifted his body so that she might fall off. "I would speak to your mother on your behalf if you'll only set me free!"

"No," Meg stated indignantly. She slowly rose from his heaving body and crawled to her side of the bed, taking up her book once more. "For I would truly be alone then, and I am not sure what happiness I could find other than death."

She rested her head against the cushions that she'd propped up and became lost in the book until she felt Erik squirming around on the bed. "Are you all right?" she asked with concern.

"I need to…use the water closet," he admitted sheepishly.

"I understand," she smirked and released the shorter chains that she'd wound around his hands, leaving him in the two longer chains specially rigged for this purpose. She led him the few steps to the master bath, and tossed the key from the room into a basket in the hallway, a safety precaution so as he could not overpower her and release himself. He shut the door as much as the chains would allow, and she waited at the other side of the room, far enough away to preserve his privacy, but close enough to hear the toilet flush and the sound of running water. She tentatively approached the door and knocked, offering to fetch a towel if he chose to take a bath.

"Yes, I think that given the circumstances, a bath might be tremendously beneficial. With you, it's a wonder what events will transpire next," he seethed.

Meg handed him the towel through the door as he undressed, and then she heard the squeak of the faucet as he turned on the tap and allowed the water to gush into the pristine claw-footed porcelain tub. She had been surprised that he'd even managed to install plumbing down here, but when she found that it came equipped with warm water, she had been downright amazed. _"This man knows how to live in luxury. Imagine what kind of life I would have in store for me if I were his wife."_ Since she did consider herself to be his betrothed, she was sorely tempted to open the door a crack and admire his naked form, though she knew he was very clever and would catch her. _"There will be a time for intimacies," _she thought dreamily.

The thoughts that were in Meg's head as she heard a splash as he stepped into the tub were images of Erik wet and naked, which sent a surge of color to her cheeks, and a surge of something else to that area between her legs. She nearly cried out with delight when the thought of him slowly pumping between her thighs, their bodies writhing together on the bed, flashed across her mind. Overcome with girlish desire, she sought a cool cloth from the kitchen to reduce the heat in her body, and to separate herself from the target of her lust so readily available in the next room.

"Erik, do you require any assistance?" she called loudly from the kitchen, finding it hard to keep the raw emotion from her voice. "Can you cleanse yourself adequately with your pained wrist?"

"It's a little hard, but I am managing well enough. I shall be done shortly," was his curt reply.

Meg was not herself a virtuous woman, but she did not know where this sudden urgency to consummate with him came from either. She knew that she would have to find a way to seduce him, to pleasure his untouched flesh with her own, and then his body would betray himself to succumb to her wishes. _"He will be sure to love me then! Physical pleasure is always on the minds of men, and with a man so passionate and yet so sexually inexperienced as Erik, he would be at the mercy of his own body! And to think, if I could conceive a child, he would never leave me…."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Erik emerged from the bathroom wearing the robe that Meg had draped for him on the door knob and he toweled off his hair as he saw that she was still engrossed in her book. She glanced up to see him standing there and immediately set her book down, intending to restrain him once more.

"Do you think perhaps I might dress myself before you go locking me up again?" he snapped.

She blushed as she withdrew a set of black sleeping pants with a button down shirt. He snatched the items from her and went back into the bathroom to change as Meg was mortified over her mistake. He came out once again and she remained situated on the bed, fearful of embarrassing herself further. He looked at her cautiously as he lay down, expecting her to bind him once more, though she did not seek to move and he chose not to bring up the subject.

"It is very late and we should go to sleep now. I know that you may not be tired from sleeping earlier and for so long, but you need to try keeping regular hours consistent with day and nighttime. If you wish, I can make you a sleeping draught."

"Can I trust that I will not be knocked out senseless?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes," she sighed in return. "I want you to sleep, not make you comatose. Hot water, chamomile and some warm milk that I purchased yesterday, that is what mother used to give me when I couldn't sleep." He agreed on that condition and she prepared it in the kitchen.

As Meg stood in the near darkness, her mind and pulse were racing. She hoped that Erik had not seen her sly glances in his direction from behind her book as she attempted to see some of his skin as he dressed. It was like she was suddenly possessed with a crazy lust that she had never felt before, something foreign to her that did not exist when she had lain with her two previous lovers. _"Christine was a fool to turn this man down!"_ she thought as she heard the kettle start to squeal. As she poured the scalding hot water into a mug, she thought again of the joy she would experience to actually have him _inside_ of her, and she let out a yelp as droplets of water spilled onto her hand, burning the skin upon contact. She pressed a cold cloth on her hand as she quickly added the necessary ingredients and rushed back into the bedroom.

While she had been preparing his herbal sedative, Erik used the mobility of his hands to start reading the book that Meg had left for him. He knew that he should use this opportunity to his advantage, to perhaps overpower and threaten her, but it would be useless as he knew that the key was not in her possession, and he could not risk her running away. _"As much as it scares me to be here, I have to get into her head and make her believe that I am on her side, or she will never let me go. She has already loosened my security, so hopefully it will only be a little while before I can freely roam about the place. With her trust increasing in me, I can eventually use that against her and get us both out of here! I will admit that she is very clever, having meticulously thought everything through up to this point, though she must have a flaw somewhere that I can exploit, and the trick will be to outsmart her."_

Meg returned then with his drink, observing that he seemed lost in thought, and said, "I hope I do not need to fasten you during the night. If you kill me you will never escape because I do not keep the key with me unless I am about to use it, but I do want you to be comfortable."

"How considerate," he grumbled. He took a sip and found that the sweet drink was fairly pleasant in taste, thirstily gulping it all down as Meg prepared herself in the bathroom for bed.

"I really could use a vanity. Were none spared upstairs from the fire?" she asked innocently.

"I personally have found very little use for a vanity. You may use Christine's; it is located in her former bedroom in this home."

"I would hate to touch anything of hers," she pouted childishly. "Though I have needed to borrow her clothes." She removed a pale blue cotton nightdress from Erik's armoire drawer, a gown that he had chosen specially for Christine, and he could feel himself become angry that it would adorn Meg's body instead.

She approached a drapery-covered mirror and yanked hard on the tassel, causing the heavy ebony fabric to fall and overlap at her feet. Meg admired her reflection, adjusting her long hair to fall over her shoulders and breasts, and she smiled at what she saw. "I want to be beautiful for you," she whispered shyly.

Erik could not find any words to say when she began stripping out of her clothes right in front of him. She was not trashy like the looser women of the ballet corps, but she seemed to savor the stunning figure of her body as she turned her bare back to him and demurely covered her breasts and womanly region with her hands. She cast her eyes downward in an ironic gesture of purity, and also so that she would not meet Erik's hungry eyes in the mirror's image. She pulled the nightgown over her head and allowed it to gracefully cover her nude flesh. However, the bodice got stuck on her large breasts and she had to tug hard in order for it to fit her comfortably. She could not help but glimpse at Erik trying stare as the fabric stretched across her chest, emphasizing what he had always longed to touch on a woman. Meg was sure that if she looked at his pants that there would be a bulge, and the thought made her smile.

She climbed into bed beside him and blew out the oil lantern. "Goodnight," she said sweetly.

"Goodnight? You are not sleeping here! Go sleep in Christine's bedroom," he said, trying to be forceful though his mouth had somehow gone dry.

"No, that was her room and I want to stay here with you," she frowned. "It is common to share a bed."

"Yes, when two people are married or in love, and we are neither. If you wish me to be more comfortable, please do not share the same bed with me."

"I can't sleep down there; it is too open and scary in her bedroom! I will stay on my side and not touch you, I swear. This bed is more than large enough to accommodate us both and I will not move."

"Meg, please-!"

"I am staying here, Erik!" she shouted angrily.

The sedative was beginning to kick in and he did not feel like fighting. "Fine, goodnight then!" he spat and yanked part of the blankets to cover himself further. Meg was tired too but she lay awake, listening in the darkness to the faint sounds of lapping water and of Erik's breathing, attempting to concoct the best method of seduction before she fell into a light sleep.

He was still sleeping peacefully when Meg awoke a number of hours later. At first she found that it was odd to wake in a room with no windows and sunlight to gauge the time, so she had to rely on the small clock that she kept by the bedside that was originally placed on Erik's living room mantle. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock face which read that it was close to half past nine. As much as she wished to continue sleeping, she knew that staying in bed even this late was deplorable for a housewife.

But as Meg moved to rise from the bed, she snuck a glance at the slumbering captive whom she was desperate for. Erik appeared so vulnerable with his eyes closed and mouth parted slightly, his left arm draped over his head. Meg sat back down on the edge of the bed, a smile quickly creeping across her face as she drank in the image of the half naked man lying in front of her. The blankets had been moved during the night, so they were only haphazardly covering his legs and abdomen, and they seemed to be restricting his already limited mobility.

As she pulled the blankets down, she noticed a protrusion in his trousers below the waistband. Meg was not at all naïve like Christine when it came to men, and having already lain with a few, she was delighted to know that Erik was sexually aroused, perhaps from a dream. Her eyes went wide with curiosity, and she hesitantly reached a hand out to his covered erection, her mouth going wide in astonishment when she gently stroked it through satiny fabric. It twitched a little underneath her fingertip, but Erik's breathing remained even and he was seemingly unaware of the attention that his most private parts were receiving.

Meg grew bolder with her now insatiable need to see and touch his phallus, and she nimbly unlaced the string cinching closed his trousers. She wanted to savor this moment, allowing herself to indulge in her fantasies and urges, to claim his body in ways that no other woman had the courage to do.

She imagined him coming to her, eager to join his flesh with hers as he pushed her down upon the soft red sheets and stretched his lithe body along hers. They would come together, with a powerful surge of love and emotion, and would lay with each other all day as they explored the wonders they both held in store.

At last, she could restrain herself no longer, and Meg slid his trousers down to his thin but strong legs, admiring the views she received with each new inch revealed. She heard Erik moan softly, but he did not stir and once more her attention was focused on his groin. She had seen larger men before, but it was plump in its hardness, sheathed underneath curly dark tendrils. The tip poked out and there were a few milky droplets that were begging to be tasted by Meg's suddenly parched lips. She traced a delicate finger along the pulsing vein on the underside, the only touch she allowed herself to have at this moment, and Erik emitted a small helpless whimper. She longed to touch the flexible sacs underneath, but she knew that the longer she stayed, the more she risked discovery and quickly pulled his pants back up.

After running her hands along his bulk one more time, she dressed and arranged her hair before plodding off to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, her mind reeling with unexplored possibilities.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6**_

_The door shut swiftly behind me as I entered the store in search of Alison. I wished to purchase from her a new set of shirts and trousers made of thinner material for the warm impending spring weather, but she was neither behind the counter nor arranging the clothing racks._

"_Alison?" I called out to the seemingly empty store._

"_I am back here, Monsieur Erik. Please help me, I cannot reach something on the top shelf." She sounded flustered, so I hurried through the swinging doors and found her standing on the tips of her toes and straining to get down a package._

"_Mlle. Neville, why would you not grab a stool to reach that high? You could hurt yourself."_

_As if on cue she stumbled and was about to fall, but I was quick to catch her before she landed on her backside. She turned around as I still held her in my arms and stared at me with wide blue eyes, her mouth turning upwards in a shy smile._

"_Thank you, Monsieur, you are right. If you were not here to catch me, I may have had a nasty tumble."_

"_Indeed," was all I could manage as I found my breath had caught in my throat._

_There was little need to speak then as I suddenly found her small lips pressed to my own, her body pressing itself ardently against my own. I groaned as she deepened the kiss, her delicate tongue penetrating my mouth and probing further, subjecting me to oral pleasure that I had never experienced beyond the tiny kisses Christine had given me to spare Raoul de Chagny's life. Alison was fervent in her affectionate display, making sweet little noises that increase my desire for her and I grabbed her hair, pressing her mouth so close to mine that it hurt._

"_How I have wanted this, wanted you," she gasped as we came apart for air._

"_Likewise," I sighed as I sat down on the high-backed wooden chair._

"_Not a man of many words, are you today monsieur," she jested._

"_Words, no," and I grabbed her around the waist, pulling her weight down upon my lap. She giggled in delight and shifted so that her legs were on either side of the chair, allowing our bodies greater contact to unite. "I much prefer to demonstrate my adoration of you." She arched her back, much to my delight, as her breasts were in a position now prime for viewing. Forgetting all of my previous discretion, I boldly grabbed each breast and yanked the fabric of her bodice down to reveal the delicious mounds of flesh that women were graced with. She cried out, "Erik!" which was the most beautiful sound a man could hear in these circumstances and thrust her hips against my own._

_Her lips came in contact with my own and did not leave, even as she urgently hitched her skirt up and I pulled my pants down as far as I could reach. She lifted her hips for just a moment before they came down upon my lap once more, though she did it with such skill that now I was _inside_ of her. I feared that the chair beneath me would break from the ferocity in which she rode me, strands of hair coming loose from the braids that crossed the crown of her head, hanging in wavy tendrils that framed her face as her eyes stared straight into my own. She threw her head back again, her breathing shallow and harsh, and in that glorious moment when she had never looked more stunningly beautiful, I softly rasped her name and felt myself unleash thirty-seven years of repressed love into the soft curves of her body._

Erik awoke with a start, having blissfully climaxed in his dream, and apparently on himself as well. He sat up, uncomfortably wet and sticky, and also embarrassed that this should happen in his captivity with Meg so close by. Thankfully she was not in the room at that moment, and he quickly used the bathroom, removing the damp trousers and donning the familiar formal black trousers of days long gone. He was irritated that he would not be able to put on a shirt, and called out to his captor for some assistance.

"Would you please be kind enough to remove me from these chains long enough for me to dress appropriately? I had to rip the apart the sleeves of my shirt last night to get it off."

"No, my dear, I cannot do that," she replied simply.

"You cannot expect me to spend the rest of my time here half dressed!" he stated incredulously. "It is not proper, and more so it makes me unnerved to be around you in such a state of undress."

"_But I do not mind at all,"_ Meg thought.

"I have some shirts that have buttons all along the inside seam. You may have a little difficulty buttoning the sleeves, but I can help with that, and that is the best that I could do with your restraints." Meg withdrew a tightly packaged brown parcel tied with string from the bottom drawer of the wardrobe and opened it to reveal four white folded shirts, neatly washed and pressed, ready for him to wear. She took the top one and held it up for him to view. "It took me quite some time before I found a measuring tape stashed in a drawer full of sketches." Erik winced at the thought of Meg seeing the detailed drawings he had done of clothes for Christine, but bit his tongue for fear of unleashing her darker side. "These shirts were made to your specifications, or at least based on the clothes that you left here."

"You have thought of everything, haven't you?"

"I don't want to be a heartless jailor, but I want to ensure that you remain my custody for as long as I desire it. Here, I will help you with this, and also your breakfast is ready." Meg stood behind me as she draped the soft cotton shirt on his shoulders and noticed the many scars on his back. "Was this from the gypsies?" she asked quietly.

"How do you know?"

"Mama told me, right after the masquerade. She said that she rescued you as a child and that you have lived her for a long time."

"Yes, that is why I am here, because I owe her my life. You know that she would do anything for you, right?"

"Not anymore, we have gone our separate ways. It is time for me to move on and grow up."

"Proceed with your life, yes, but do not shut your mother out completely. I was not lucky enough to have the opportunity of reconciling with my mother. I know that you are bitter that it seems like she has not favored you or been overly affectionate, but you are her only daughter."

"Stop it!" she shrieked suddenly. "I do not need you to lecture me! That is all anyone has ever done, as if I lack the capacity to think for myself! I am finally independent and am able to live my own life, so I don't need your unwanted advice!"

She pushed Erik back down on the bed, and he could do nothing but glare at her as he could not think of anything appropriate to say. He imagined that nobody would desire to be in his position of captivity at the hands of a madwoman, and he was even more frightened as he had spent the first few years of his live without freedom. Meg was irrational and unpredictable, which meant that he had to be cognizant of every word that came out of his mouth. He hated trying to be nice to her, trying to get her to see reason and let him go, and his efforts appeared to be for nothing as he was still trapped down here with no indication of rationale present in Meg's confused mind.

"I thought you would understand me," she remarked, her voice choked with emotion and barely audible, though her hysterics were gone for the moment. "You and I have been abused by those around us, choosing to sink inwardly to our feelings until hope was replaced with resentment. Let me feel you, Erik, let me feel for you." She gazed deeply into the blue of his eyes, searching for an answer that wasn't there.

When his response was to immediately look away, too enraged and scared to do anything else, she kissed him fiercely. Erik was caught completely off guard and urgently tried to protest, but she was determined to claim his body. She straddled him, pressing her waist to his and as she let her full weight rest on his thighs, he let out a sharp cry of pain which she mistook for pleasure. She began to grind against him, a feeling totally new to Erik except for in his dreams, and she forced her tongue into his open mouth. He tried to push her away but instead she grabbed his hands and clamped them onto her buttocks as she continued to roll her hips. Much to his shame, he began to feel his body react to her wanton embrace, to feel the contact that he'd so longed for in a woman. He realized that they were in fact much more similar than he had ever thought possible.

"_If it weren't for the present circumstances, we might have grown to love each other naturally,"_ he thought as he finally succumbed to her kiss.

"Oh, I knew you felt for me!" she cried breathlessly as she grabbed his face and trailed kisses along his neck. She could feel his chest began to rise and fall rapidly, savoring the loud thump of his heartbeat, and then the familiar swell of something hard forming underneath her. "We should make love; I think we are destined to."

He had been so desperate to be intimate with a woman, but he was not so foolish as to think these circumstances would be the best time for him to finally lose that last barrier preventing true manhood. "Please," he begged in her ear as her motions became from urgent. "Stop, we cannot do this. I am not weak regarding a woman's body and I will not allow you to continue. Perhaps if you had not kidnapped me, if we had developed a courtship, but I refuse to be defiled in such a way. You cannot have me like this!"

"I can have you and I will!" she screamed. She pulled the heavy skirt up and feverishly worked at the buttons on his pants before Erik extracted his hands and physically yanked her off him by her hair.

Meg landed hard on the floor, knocking her head on the bed frame, though not enough to render her unconscious. Her head swayed as she fought the resulting dizziness and she looked up with wide blue eyes to see Erik tower above her, his hands balled into fists and struggling against the restraints.

"I do not want you," he stated coldly. "Do not try to take me unwilling again. I could kill you now from where you cower on the floor, but it is more advantageous for me to keep you alive."

"Do you threaten me?" she said, eyes glaring and all but burning holes in his skin. "I will not let a prisoner dictate my actions."

"Indeed I do," he replied defiantly. "I have been blackmailed into leaving the life that I had loved into searching for your ungrateful backside, so don't you dare think that you can suddenly bring my life joy. You're entirely selfish actions hurt those around you, but you are so intent on your own desires and revenge that you don't care, and then wonder why you're so alienated. You were never truly alone until now."

"I refuse to submit. I would have thought that you would understand and you would welcome my embraces eagerly. Mark my words, I will have you, and though your rational mind denies it, your body is more than ready to unite our flesh as demonstrated just now."

Erik was terrified at the blatant truth in her words about him and also regarding the implied message behind her possessing him fully. He was quickly losing a battle with his own body, weak in resisting the urge to fight his own desire. He wanted to curse himself for having too much pride all his life to seek out the comfort of a bordello and rid himself of his virginity. _"If I had done so I would be in far better control of my emotions and hormones."_ As it was, there was little else he could do until he managed to escape, and so he sat down upon the bed, glaring angrily at Meg, arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

"Don't you sulk at me," she scolded as though she were reprimanding a child. "I have household duties to attend to, and I'll be back later around noon for your lunch. There are some books to amuse you, or a quill, ink and parchment should you choose to write or compose."

"And how am I to compose music when I am barred from my instrument?" he snapped.

"You hear it in your head. Create a new opera about a slave or something, I'm sure that your mind has been overflowing with ideas of late," she taunted wickedly. "I suppose I shouldn't concern myself with you at the moment anyway."

Meg left the room, feeing his eyes nearly burn holes in the back of her head as she skittered out. She really did not like being this cruel to him, especially given that he had spent part of his childhood in a tented prison, but he needed to learn to obey other's orders.

"_He was spoiled by my mother's kindness and the fear that he instilled in the managers, so now he feels that he can do just whatever he pleases regardless of the cost. Well, he will come to his senses sooner or later and realize that we are destined to be together forever. Would Christine serve meals for him, clean his home or allow him to make love to her? Certainly not! He is persecuted by society and here I am, the one woman who wants to marry him but no, I am not good enough because I am not mousy, prude little Christine!"_ She flung the rag to the floor that she has been using while mopping and roughly cleaned the tiled surface while angrily cursing to herself. _"He should be so lucky to have me. He denies my touch when I reach for him, and yet he surrendered to the kiss, even sprouting an erection! I shall fix both his lunch and supper with the same aphrodisiac that he undoubtedly used on Christine. Tonight! I shall be his bride tonight and then he will long for my body after the first taste. With any luck, I will be carrying his child by the end of next month!"_

She had spent the morning and early afternoon cleaning the home and preparing a suitable meal for Erik and herself. She was still bitter that things were not going according to plan.

"_Damn you, Erik, I should let you starve for the misery you're putting me through! Better yet, I should eat it before your eyes as you ache with hunger, and then I can laugh in your face!"_ Her thoughts toward him turned cold and angry at his insolent, childish behavior. Her active imagination turned from the usual erotic images of the two of them together to dreaming of mean things that could torture him, as he lay helpless and at her mercy.

But she refused to let him know that he could affect her in such a way, so she laid the dishes on the carved wooden betray and glided into the bedroom with an air of indifference.

Erik had heard Meg angrily throwing things around like a child having a temper tantrum, even from his location in the bedroom. His frustration was mounting steadily at his inability to reason with her and at the understanding that he could very well remain here for a lengthy period of time.

He sighed, running his cold fingers through his hair, desperation nearly bringing him to the point of tears. _"She maybe be clever, but she does have a weakness. I hate to admit it, but she does seem very eager to mate with me, and I am fearful that she will do something to me when I am asleep and not in control of my dreams. Perhaps if I actually did give myself to her she might free me and I could make my hasty exit then. I despise the concept of using my own body in such a manner, prostituting myself for my own freedom, but I cannot think of another method that might trigger her compassion to set me free. I shall bide my time a little longer to wear her down with logic, but regardless of the method, for her safety as well as my own, it is essential that she release me soon…."_


	7. Chapter 7

_This chapter is so short, I'm sorry everyone, and I'm also sorry that it has taken me longer to post. I've been in poor health the past week and I am starting to really getting into planning my wedding, so updates may take longer than I'd like, but I'll do my best. Anyway, enjoy._

_**Chapter 7**_

Though she remained calm on the exterior, Meg's heart still raced frantically at the sight of Erik in her bed. Willing herself to calm down her girlish nonsense, she quietly stepped to Erik's bedside and set down the nourishing meal she'd prepared, consisting of boiled carrots and peas, and a beef sandwich. He looked at it quizzically, as if second-guessing Meg's culinary expertise, and then glanced up at her.

"Eat it. Or don't, but if you don't touch that, you'll not be receiving any supper," she admonished coldly.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at her drastic change in character, and he shook his head at her abrupt, contrasting mood swings. _"How am I expected to get anywhere with this woman?"_ he thought hopelessly.

"Why are you so miserable all of a sudden?" he quipped.

"I have no response to that. I have told you how I felt, poured my heart out to you as I have done with no one else, and you thought I was crazy. You irritate me with your rationalizations and attempts at sincerity regarding my mother, but you are selfish. Now either eat or I'll take it away."

"I thought I was to be your lover, and now I am solely your captive?"

There was a twinge of sadness and denied longing in his voice, and Meg thought that perhaps Erik was starting to come around in his feelings. Her bitter heart was slowly starting to shine again, though she refused to allow herself false hope.

"You have brought it upon yourself," she chastised. "I had been warm and receptive in the beginning, even patient, but I grow tired of your ungratefulness."

"Patient? I have only been here for one day and in that time, you really only seem to want to fuck me!"

She gasped at his words and flushed in both anger and embarrassment. It was true, she had thrown herself at him like a desperate hooker even though she knew that Erik, though desperate for sexual intimacy, was not the type of man to give it freely.

"You misinterpret my intentions, for I do desire not only sex, but a lifelong relationship with you. I wanted to show you what a good wife I could be by cooking and cleaning and surrendering my body to you," she admitted softly as she sat down on the edge of the bed, ringing the plump satin duvet in her hands.

_"I feel sorry for her. It's like she is two different people, caught between right and wrong. She keeps repeating herself, and I feel that if she does not snap out of this, her depression will lead to a very early death."_

"I wish there was something I could do," he wondered aloud.

"Understand me. And love me," she replied, her eyes filled with tears and her voice cracking.

She had always hated crying around people, after her mother had told her that tears did little to solve her problems, and they weren't going to make Erik love her either. She sniffled and wiped the few tears away with the back of her hand, the white skin still smudged with soil from her previous cleaning duties.

Without a word, she got up and lay down on her side of the bed, curled up and facing away from him. Erik, feeling a little sorry for seeing this woman in tears begrudgingly brought the cooling vegetables to his mouth and slowly ate the healthy meal that Meg had prepared.

"_She hides her pain so well, no wonder she is such a good dancer; that is how she releases her frustration. With her father dying when she was so young and her mother directing her attention to anyone but her, she really has lead such a pathetic life. I suppose that if I had been there when she was a baby and been a better friend to Antoinette, I could have been a father figure to her, another person for whom she could seek comfort with. Hell, I suppose _I_ would've become a different person as well. She seemed to have been happy when she and Christine were younger, but when Christine blossomed into a singer, Meg was left with no one."_

Sensing her despair, even as she slept, Erik extended his hand just far enough to be able to gently stroke her hair.

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_"Meg, what do you think you're doing, you nearly crashed into Pauline!"_

_"Sorry, maman."_

_"Don't be sorry, don't do it again!"_

_I hated to make mother mad, especially to the point where she would strike me. I would stay behind after rehearsals were done and I would stumble and practice on bleeding toes and sore legs until I got it to mother's satisfaction._

_The practice today was halted early, to my surprise, and mother ordered that I put on a pretty dress and tidy up my disheveled appearance._

_"Why, maman?"_

_"We are receiving a new ballerina today, Marguerite. She is an orphan from Sweden, coming to us because I knew her late father, and she is being entrusted to our care. I want to make her feel welcome, so be nice and befriend her, all right?"_

_"Yes, maman."_

_But from the moment of her arrival, Christine absorbed all of the praise and adoration that should have been mine from my mother. She coddled her and always listened to Christine's constant whining and crying, whereas my tears earned nothing but scorn. Mother disciplined her when she danced in the ballet corps, but never as harshly as she yelled at me._

_It bothered me little, at this point, because I was always the better dancer, and in our youth, Christine was still a good friend._

_But that all changed when the Viscomte de Chagny returned into her life ten years after she appeared in mine. I had heard her talk for years of her Angel of Music, but she had to choose between the two, I finally unleashed my rage._

_"Poor Christine, la diva, trying to decide between two lovers, what a difficult life you must lead," I mocked._

_"Meg, what do you mean? My life has been very difficult," she said with a little too much drama._

_"Don't give me that! Yes, your father died, but so did mine, and at least you have a mother's love."_

_"My mother is dead-"_

_"My mother, you idiot! Don't you see how she dotes on you but practically ignores me? Once you came here I was all but forgotten!"_

_"But you are the principle dancer, and you get so much attention from the other men and wealthy suitors, and your mother is very proud of you-"_

_"Oh shut up Christine! If only we all could have a dramatic flourishing singing career, a noble fiancé and our own Angel of Music! You are a spoiled rotten diva, worse than Carlotta, because you pretend to be innocent and naïve when you are truthfully cold and calculating so that you can get whatever you want and everyone thinks you deserve it because you are a poor orphan. Stop being so into yourself."_

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As Meg slept, Erik took advantage of the quill and parchment provided and began writing down his thoughts, trying to create an escape plan, for lack of anything else to do. He wrote the words in Arabic, a skill acquired from his years in Persia, and during a break in thought, he would periodically glance over at Meg. He was worried about what kind of thoughts were drifting through her head, as she would sometimes twitch or shiver.

_"I never really credited her much for her acting abilities, but she certainly hid her pain well. I wish there was a way to make her realize her self-worth, and that her mother genuinely does love her. How befitting that we were the two closest companions to Christine, and she casts us both aside as if the sacrifices that we made for her meant nothing."_

"Perhaps we truly are meant for each other," he mused quietly aloud.

_"Companionship alone might be enough to set me free. It is not necessarily a lover that she seeks, but someone who will listen and who won't abandon her."_ He gathered his quill and ink-scribbled papers and began to write feverishly once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Meg groaned as she awoke, her stomach empty and seeking food soon. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her body that had been curled up and cramped as her sight traveled to where Erik sat, looking pensive and writing on the paper she'd provided.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, her voice sounding rough and tired.

"A few hours, at least. Sleep well?" he queried nonchalantly.

"Not really, but I feel a little better. I am hungry, I did not have any food, and so I am going to prepare dinner."

"I did not realize it was that hour already. I never ate this much when I was alone."

Meg said nothing in response, unsure if there was a hidden meaning in his words, she sauntered into the kitchen and began gathering the cooking utensils. As she was prepping the food, she spotted the canisters that held Erik's potent herbs, including the aphrodisiac. She set the chopping knife down and pulled off the lid, savoring the rich aroma that emanated from the cold tin. Long ago she had heard the older ballet girls talk about the best foods to prepare for a husband to entice him sexually, and also to increase fertility when wanting to conceive.

Her mood instantly brightened when she inhaled the spicy contents and absentmindedly let her hand fall to her lower abdomen. She had intentionally bought foods like asparagus and carrots to innocently mask her trickery with food but that also would instill a potent fire in his belly. They would be prepared in a sweet pumpkin sauce combined with sweet basil, nutmeg, ginger and honey to make Erik nearly explode with want. She quickly boiled the vegetables, mashed the pumpkin and mixed the key ingredients with it. She put the crisp vegetables in two bowls, pouring the viscous sauce over the top and placed them on the serving tray.

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Erik hardly noticed Meg's entrance into the room, though he did detect the aroma of something pungently sweet. Having lived most of his life with a limited opportunity to obtain food, he was used to eating sparingly and considering he'd had two meals today already, he had no intentions of sampling his dinner.

"You are still writing, are you?" she chuckled, appearing to be in brighter spirits than when she first arose. "What could be so important?" She set the tray down on the seat at the end of the bed and approached from the side. "That is so dreadfully illegible, Erik, it doesn't even look French!" she exclaimed.

"That's because it is not," he growled, angry that the private moments connecting words to paper were disturbed. "It is Arabic so that prying eyes such as yours allow me some personal time! My thoughts are my own, madam, and I'll not allow you to spy on me."

Before he could react, she snatched the ink-smeared pages from his grip and scurried to the doorway, just beyond his reach. "You wretched little thief, hand those back!"

"Not until you eat your dinner. It is not a lot, but it is special and I labored over it, thought at least I had the sense to prepare the pumpkin spices ahead of time." He looked at her strangely and she grew impatient, putting her hands on her hips and pouting. "The food was expensive and purchased specially as a treat. Indulge me and I promise to give you your writings back."

Erik looked down at the bowl and back up at Meg before heaving an exasperated sigh, taking the food and sitting back down. She beamed at her small victory and took her place beside him with her own dinner.

"I feel quite lazy not having dinner, or any meal for that matter, seated at a proper table," he grumbled.

"I can't fit a table in here and I can't risk your escape." He remained silent, so to ease the awkwardness of the moment, she asked what he thought of the meal.

"It's small for dinner."

"I wasn't very hungry and I didn't think that you were either. Do you like it?"

"Yes, it is good."

Still feeling uneasy with his silence, she retrieved the documents as promised and wandered into the large cavern that was the entrance to his home. She had convinced the mob not to destroy his home, to leave everything in its place lest they awaken an evil superstitious curse, and so all of his possessions lay where he had last left them two years before. Although they made her angry, Meg had even left the fragile paintings unscathed, covered in a white sheet and tossed carelessly in a corner. She hated them, but kept them for Erik.

She picked up the worn and dirty pair of ballet slippers that she'd placed on Erik's pipe organ. _"What a lovely image of my slippers and his music. Perhaps I can convince him someday to paint that scene,"_ she thought sadly.

But the real reason that she had come here was to dance in an effort to ease her frustrations. Although not nearly as large as the rotting stage above, there was still enough empty floor space to maneuver and twirl. Meg closed her eyes and kicked off her brown leather shoes, extended her hands and stood barefoot. The rock beneath her feet was smooth but littered with a few stones, and she stumbled when she mistakenly tread upon them.

_"As much as it hurts, I must maintain my physique to keep dancing. It is my life, my passion and the only thing I love more than Erik."_

She sat on the cold stone in the dark, tying the fraying laces and humming softly to herself. In her mind, she could imagine Erik seated at the piano, his hands gracefully flitting over the keys as she matched his movements with her feet. Though it had been years since she had last heard it, the passionate melodies of Erik's masterpiece _Don Juan Triumphant_ replayed in her mind like a long hazy memory. Both the music and dance had been drilled into her head, and as the sound began to swell and crescendo, Meg burst into movement, completing the short but complicated routine, albeit a little sloppy after so long.

Her legs were strong but still ached from the prolonged inactivity, and she sat down upon the piano bench, gasping for breath. She glanced at the clock, which still kept surprisingly accurate time, and realized she'd left her hostage alone for close to two hours. She unlaced her slippers, wincing as she'd created fresh cuts on her toes and over them slipped on the dull brown shoes.

Erik had been used to his captor being in other parts of his house, though he didn't know where Meg had gone for so long. He had long finished his meal, which he begrudgingly admitted to himself that he enjoyed and he'd run out of parchment.

"_What is that blasted woman doing now?"_ he thought bitterly.Not knowing what to do with himself, a strange feeling since he never before experienced boredom, he clasped his hands together and lay flat on the bed, allowing his thoughts to take him away from his current location.

Oddly enough, as he closed his eyes he began to feel light-headed and anxious. Ignoring the feeing, he soon began to doze and the scenes in his mind made him uneasy, even in sleep, as they were of him and a faceless woman engaged in licentious activities.

Meg was tired and sore when she came into the bedroom to observe Erik. Noting that he was asleep and had finished his meal, she quickly stripped from her clothes and ran a warm bath. She poured some lavender oil that she had taken from Christine's room into the tub, and immersed herself within the welcoming water.

She moaned aloud as the heat enveloped her body, thanking Erik silently for his architectural genius. _"I live in a world of wonder with my lover and I. Perhaps someday soon we can bathe together, oh, how romantic!"_

The effects of the aphrodisiacs began to take their hold on Meg as her skin became very sensitive to the soap she delicately ran over her body. She closed her eyes and arched her back, imagining that the soft silky touches were made by Erik's perfect hands, and despite the fire that blossomed deep inside of her, she would not touch herself to alleviate the pressure.

_"No, I have waited long enough for Erik. He shall be the one to touch and fill me tonight."_

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Erik awoke to the sound of the tub draining and immediately checked himself to make sure that his dreams had no last effect.

_"Who knows what she'd do to me if she thinks that I've been having such dreams about _her_."_

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He still pretended to sleep when she came out of the bathroom in his robe, brushing her hair distractedly. She crossed the room and withdrew a stunning violet colored satin nightdress; the one he'd picked out for his wedding night with Christine. He wanted to protest but she disrobed then, showing no modesty and displaying her glorious body rather than changing behind the ornamental screen. He groaned low in his throat as his own body reacted subconsciously to the delicious sight in front of him.

_"Not now,"_ he thought miserably, but his eyes could not turn away as she slipped into the gown. From the back it fit perfectly, but in the front, her breasts looked as though they were about to spill over, so she grabbed a white gauzy night wrap and climbed onto the bed. He relaxed a little, not letting on to the fact that he knew that she was starting at him.

But he cried out when he felt her straddle him and lean forward, her plump chest hanging in his face. She grabbed his wrists before he could protest and manacled them to the headboard with the second set of more restrictive irons."

"What are-"

"Don't, Erik, I'm tired and sore and want to sleep," feigning fatigue.

"Why the additional chains? And why, of all things, are you wearing that?"

"Because I don't want you moving your sleep and my body hurts, so I didn't want an itchy wool nightgown as the one cotton one that I have is not clean. If it bothers you then don't look." She heard him grumble something in that strange language as she moved to blow out the candle and gave him a sharp look. "And what did you just say?"

"Nothing that should be repeated for a woman's ears," he replied coldly.

"Then it should not be said no matter what language is spoken. Good night!" The room was depleted of all of its light when Meg extinguished the candle, and rolled to her side, leaving Erik awake and miserable on the other side of the bed.

_"Thankfully I used the toilet after I finished the soup or I'd really be unhappy."_ He kept shifting but could not find a comfortable position as his trousers were constricting blood flow in his legs, and his partially raised arms were also slowly becoming numb.

It did not take long for Erik's eyes to adjust to the darkness but somehow the room and the home itself seemed hollow. Crickets did not chirp such as they did at his small country home, and he lay staring blankly at the ceiling, recalling all the small things that he had taken advantage of with freedom. There were no breezes that circulated through the hallway from the windows that filtered bright sunshine. He looked towards his left and saw Meg curled up on her side, away from him and facing the door, as though she were guarding it from him even in slumber.

_"I wonder if she knows that there is a hidden panel and passageway behind the armoire? I built an alternate escape route in every room in the event that I was ever trapped, though it does me little good now."_

He glanced up at his imprisoned wrists and shook his hands to stimulate what little flow of blood that he could, and then he again let his vision drift to Meg.

_"She really does look beautiful in that gown. The dark purple contrasts so well against the lightness of her hair, and I admit that it she fills it out better than Christine could have. But I fear that if she moves too quickly she will rip the bodice and her breasts will conveniently displayed, though I would imagine her to be so cunning and execute that method if it meant she could successfully seduce me."_ He recalled seeing her curvaceous body before she slipped on the nightdress and found himself wondering again how it would feel to have her skin caressed by his own masterful fingers.

_"Has she drugged me? What has come over me, it's as though I have no manners or discretion regarding sex! I have held my urges at bay for thirty-five years, not to mention the woman is holding me captive!"_

Erik thumped his head lightly against the headboard and seethed with frustration. Angry at his lack of strength and inability to free himself, he cleared his mind as best he could and fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Be warned, this chapter has sexual violence. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with the subject matter. Thank you, as always, to my loyal readers/reviewers.**_

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_Erik knew that he must have been dreaming when he saw Christine approach him from a distance. It had been over two years since their final departure immediately following the scandal of Don Juan Triumphant, however there was an apparent discernible difference in her character at a glance. She strode forward as he stood, paralyzed by rapture and uncertainty, her figure dimly lit by the intense pure white light framing the background._

_"Erik," she breathed, her heavenly voice sending shivers down his spine. He had never thought that she knew his Christian name, but it hardly mattered at this moment. "Erik, it is time that you have possessed me. You have taken me to new heights, created my voice from almost nothing, and filled me with a desire that only you can sate." She reached him now and took his naked face within her delicate feminine hands. She looked like an angel with her face surrounded by plump brown curls, and her lips were swollen and reddish from her glowing sexuality. He longed to kiss her and could feel his burgeoning lust blossom as evidenced below the waistline. He looked down in shame and embarrassment but his angel quickly kissed him and moved impossibly closer._

_"Erik, my mentor and love, please, this is what I have yet to feel," she pleaded. Her eyes turned smoky and she boldly reached for his blatant protrusion, causing him to utter a loud gasp at both the feel and extreme departure of her demure character. He grabbed her by her curls and forced her lips to collide with his own. As they drank from each other, Erik felt himself fall backward against a softer surface, and Christine came to land atop him._

"_Oh God, this surely must be a dream! I cannot be experiencing this, it feels too good, too real!" he whispered as his tainted angel ground her sensuous body in rhythm with his own. She stopped suddenly and he felt her weight leave him momentarily. He looked to se her kneeling over his thighs, her small hands deftly working the fastenings of his trousers as he let his head fall back in sheer ecstasy. He had been prepared to feel Christine's gentle weight above him again, but was mesmerized when his cock was engulfed in a warm wetness._

Erik's eyes flew open, but instead of his brunette protégé, he found the bobbing blonde head of Meg Giry greedily sucking his most private area. The chains were still very secured on his wrists and he struggled for control as he sought a way for her to stop.

"Meg, what are you doing, please stop! _Dear God_, stop!" he cried. He bucked his hips a few times to dislodge her, but thought better of it should her teeth accidentally graze the ultra-sensitive skin.

"But my love," she said, halting her motions. "I was just demonstrating my devotion to you! I seek to pleasure you and we have yet to consummate this," she said, smiling pleasantly and very eager to please.

"Consummate? No, I don't want this! I don't want your body!" he cried desperately.

"Oh Erik, am I not as pretty as Christine? Everyone always adored her but she never reciprocated the gratitude. Did she ever do this to you? I know you would've loved making love to her, but I can do that, and I won't be ashamed! You must have been lonely for so long, and I could be a good wife to her husband."

She began to remove her shoes and stockings, to Erik's horror, and moved to mount him when she noticed his absence of erection. The tip was still wet with moisture and she pumped his cock again with her hand. His loins were on fire with want, but Erik was frantically trying to regain control of his manipulated organ, but the virgin flesh disobeyed and jerked in anticipation of releasing a lifetime of pent desire.

Meg smiled broadly and hovered above the shaft, savoring the moment when they would finally be united as one flesh. Erik could feel the sexual heat emanating from her opening as she pulled up her skirt and kissed him lightly before setting herself down upon him. Erik arched his back at the new contact between them and they both stared at each other a minute, Meg from happiness and he from his dismayed disbelief and the torrent of conflicting emotions. He sucked in a breath as he tried to force his pulsating member to go back to its dormant state, but then his forceful partner moved and he unwittingly moaned. "Oh God," he whispered, barely audible.

"You feel this too?" she asked, her voice thick and hoarse with lust. She regained control and began to thrust against him, wanting to witness his every reaction to her movements. He in turn thrashed his head form side to side, eyes tightly shut and fingernails digging into the cold iron of his shackles. Tears were streaming from his eyes from the degradation and humiliation of being forced by a woman to have sex. Her body so warm and narrow from her lifelong ballet training, and he could feel himself constantly on the edge of an unintentional and unwanted orgasm.

She was moving wilding above him now, desperate for him to obtain pleasure from their long-anticipated joining. He dared open his eyes and saw Meg, her back arched as her hips constantly surged forward, her head tossed back with her hair falling into long frizzy strands in her face. Her breasts were covered but so large that they bounced madly, and with one delirious thought, he imagined what it would be like to touch them now. It was at this point that his body could not withstand the attack, and Erik, beginning to tremble and realizing what was happening began to shout, _"No!"_

"Yes, Erik, yes I want to feel you this way! Lose yourself to me!" Meg shouted fervently.

He released one final despairing cry of protest at his own weakness before spilling a seemingly endless stream into the undulating body of his tormented captor. She responded by rubbing against him a few more times before leaning in to kiss his tears away. Exhausted and sweating, he rolled his head to the side and ignoring Meg's gesture, fought to control the wild heartbeat and the emotions that threatened tears.

"Oh Erik, dear heart, why are you upset? Maman confessed to me that you had never lain with a woman and I would have thought that you would enjoy this," she tried to say in her defense. She pulled her skirt back down and moved off of him, her thighs sticky from sweat and their mingled liquids. When Erik said nothing, she lay down beside him, smoothing his tousled hair and putting her arms around him. "Please stop crying. I know that you enjoyed this and wanted it, there's no shame in admitting that."

"You devious bitch!" he finally spat, causing Meg to gape at him in shock. "You've raped me! How the _hell _does a woman rape a man? Yes, I am ashamed to admit that until a few minutes ago, I was untouched by a woman, but should the opportunity have occurred whereby a woman freely gave herself to me, by no means would _these_ have been the ideal circumstances! You have kidnapped and violated me, and you expect me to rejoice in our sexual union? It was because of my inexperience with women that I was unable to grasp control of the situation." He then felt something tickling his forearm and noticed a few thin streams of blood from where he had rubbed his wrists raw from struggling in his chains. Meg noticed as well and kneeling, used the hem of her skirt to dab at the wounds.

"You should really bathe yourself," Erik said quietly when she was done. "I wouldn't want something to be created as a result of this interlude."

Tears formed in Meg's eyes as the desperately sought-for child that she wanted was something that he could so carelessly discard, and she fled from the room, leaving Erik disheveled, sticky and still uncomfortably exposed.

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"_How could he be so mad at me?"_ Meg thought pitifully. _"I loved making love to him, and I know he enjoyed it too, so how could he be so angry? Would he _really_ have come to me on his own? I know that he has not thought of me romantically all of these years, and probably not at all since the fire."_

She sniffled and collapsed on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest as her skirt became damp from her tears. _"Was I such a fool to think he could love me? His heart still belongs to Christine and always will for as long as she is alive. Perhaps if I killed her then Erik would get over his obsession with her!"_ Meg pondered it for a few moments but couldn't stand the thought of seeing the ungrateful diva again. _"It could backfire too, and I don't want to further anger Erik. I just hope that hope that he was powerful enough to get me with child this one time, as it does not seem like we will make love again soon."_

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Though he knew his efforts were useless, Erik was so enraged and frightened that he shifted violently, trying his hardest to escape from the manacles that held him in place. His broken wrist ached horribly but his adrenaline served as a painkiller for it did not stop his persistent tugging actions. Tears began to form in the corners of his wild eyes, turned almost black with fear, until he forced himself to stop resisting before panic set in.

He was aware now that rivers of blood had trickled from his wounds down onto the cloth of his shoulders. The room had become cold after Meg left, from the chill of his sweat-slicked body and the fact that he was nude from his waist to his knees, though he'd managed to squirm enough to get his shirt to at least partially cover his private parts.

Erik sighed and tossed his head back, allowing the tears to fall along his hairline to the tips of his ears. He was angry with both Meg and himself, but at that moment felt more exhausted. _"How long has she been gone? It feels like hours, but I have no idea. How could I have been so careless? I should know better than to take food from her, she must have drugged me to cause me to fall asleep so deeply."_

He closed his eyes, but the images he saw were still of her riding him and the euphoric facial expressions she made. His eyes snapped open, but his mind was already replaying the act. _"I can still feel her on me, feel what her insides felt like." _Her body had closed so tightly around his and he shivered worriedly at the recollection. _"I am fully a man now, having lain with a woman, but am I really a man since it was not by choice? I'm sure it would have been Nirvana any other time, but dear God, I don't want her to do it again! Perhaps if she does and I can't fight her again then I can close my eyes and pretend it's beautiful Alison making love to me as if we were lovers." _

Then he remembered that his original intention had been to think he was on her side. _"I've faltered because she seduced me and caught me by surprise. It will be hard to execute now, but I think I might have an idea, though it makes me sick to even think of it. Undoubtedly she thinks that I am stupid regarding sex like every other man, so she assumes that I will give in to the joys of her body. I will resist for awhile but at a moment when I am less restrained, I shall try to initiate "the pleasure of her company," and when I move to mount her, I shall choke her until she loses consciousness, though I need to find a way to distract her so that she leaves the key in her pocket and I can snatch it when she is not awake._" He exhaled deeply, tired but thankful that there appeared to be some hope of escape, even though it required a large sacrifice on his part.

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_Eh, I don't know how thrilled I am with the way the last part ended with Erik's plan, I don't think it transitioned right. But I did want him to realize that he needs to get over his shame to follow through with his method of escape, and it seems that sacrificing his body is the biggest bargaining chip that he has. I hope that is clear enough, and if not, leave me a review suggesting what could be done to make it better. Thanks!_


	10. Chapter 10

Meg had been gone for a long time, and Erik was becoming increasingly worried. He was hungry, bored and needed to use the lavatory, but sadly relied on his captor to alleviate all three uncomfortable feelings. He'd tried falling back asleep, but as time ticked on and there was no discernible indication that Meg was in the house, his fear that something had happened to her became significantly increased.

"_What if my angry words caused her to run away, or worse, to kill herself? I can't stand the thought of dying in my bed, naked and restrained." _He also thought about how nice a bath would feel right about now, but his filth was one of the last things on his mind at the moment until Meg returned. _"I have to control my temper if I am to get out of this situation alive, preferably with her at my side. If I have to sacrifice my body so that she can trust me, so be it, and I will deal with the consequences of my actions when I have control of the situation, but I have to ultimately make her believe that I am on her side."_

* * *

Meg had been wandering the labyrinthine hallways for hours now and though she knew where she was, she wasn't quite sure if she should head back to the surface or face her shame with Erik.

"I still love him and want him desperately, but I've rushed things in my haste to make him and to get pregnant. There is still that small hope that a child might be forming right now, though I must work to repair my relationship with Erik in the meantime. But oh, he felt so good when he was inside of me and though I know he was scared, I saw that lustful glimmer in his eyes that makes me believe that he wants it more when he realizes his feelings for me."

She had been close to the entrance to the street above, nearly fleeing to the arms of her supposedly frantic mother, but the prospects that she still held for her life with Erik encouraged her to return to his home and continue on with the life that they had been leading for the past few days.

Meg hadn't realized how far she's gone until it was time to go back. _"I must have been pretty upset before for me not to recognize how far I was going. I probably walked in circles a few times, ranting and crying to myself in order for me to wander around with no sensible direction."_ She skirted along the narrow ledge following the canals and ducked below the portcullis, entering the large room that greeted trespassers to Erik's domain.

When Erik heard Meg's light footfalls on the chipping steps outside the kitchen, he was silently overjoyed. _"For someone I hate so much, I sure am glad to hear that they are back."_ Not wishing to anger her further, he was genuinely happy to see her when she walked through the open doorway into his room. She looked tired and dejected, neither returning his smile nor acting at all happy to see him. She crossed the room without a word and unfastened the short chain so that he could move about the room more freely. He sat up and carefully looked at his broken wrist, grimacing at the ugly purple and green marks that were forming along the wound. He knew that his violent thrashing did not help to heal the break, but he began to worry that infection could set in from any blood, sweat or grime that may have leached into the puckered skin.

"Meg? I am going to be taking a bath and I think I am going to need your assistance as my hand does not seem to be doing very well." She nodded and helped him from the bed before he shut himself in the bathroom. The luxurious purple nightgown had been thrown into a corner that morning after she had gotten dressed, before seducing Erik, so she picked it up and threw it in the hamper after she knew that he was already immersed in the bathwater. She knocked on the door, and he answered her with the affirmative that she might enter.

He sat in the water with his right hand extended over the tub and a washcloth was conveniently draped above his knees, yielding him the only privacy he could have at this moment. Meg kneeled on the floor beside the porcelain basin and gently took the damaged appendage in her hand as she fished for the gauze and medical tape.

"It is healing nicely given the severity of the gash and that my stitches were crude, at best. I never was very skilled in sewing."

"Perhaps you should've thought of that before setting traps around my home. If you love me so much why would you risk my death?" She could feel his arm tense with unrestrained anguish as she held it lightly while bandaging the wrist. Truthfully she could say nothing in her defense that would substantially reconcile her actions, though now she was truly coming to regret forcing him on the bed.

Still, Meg found that she could not prevent herself from issuing an apology. "I'm very sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

"You truly are a hypocrite, Meg Giry, because in spite of all this pain and torture, you still won't let me go, will you?" She shook her head and feeling so much more vulnerable, Erik ordered her out of the bathroom. "Please remove yourself from my sight."

When she somberly exited the master bathroom, Erik was actually surprised that she didn't counter with some retort about her having all of the power over him. He was completely exposed to her and she could have very well trapped him naked in the bathroom, but her guilty conscious must have been overwhelming for her to leave without a word. He looked down at his genitals, surprised at how normal they looked despite the violent act that had taken place earlier. He didn't think that they would grow or look very different, but they seemed so…similar to when he had been a virgin. His body didn't feel any different either, but somehow, _something_ had changed where he just didn't feel like he used to. The stickiness and sweat had long-since washed away in the mild water, though the filthiness still clung to him as though he'd fallen in mud. He scrubbed his skin again but he knew that there was little he could do to wash away the emotional scars.

"_I can't keep thinking that I was raped or else I can never convince Meg that I trust her. I don't trust her, not for a second, but my one small chance to leave comes in me sharing my body with her and making her think that I am doing it willingly. I don't know how soon she will come to me again but I don't think that was a one-off moment, so I will have to just bite my tongue, try to be friendly and give in to her insatiable passions."_ The thought of whoring himself just for his freedom made Erik feel physically nauseous, but until he could be free from these chains, he saw no alternative.

Meg was changing the bed sheets when Erik came out of the bathroom clad only in a towel. She turned her head away in a vain attempt at being proper but Erik couldn't hold back from releasing a biting remark.

"You have seen me in the nude and engaged with me in the most intimate of acts, madam, don't think that I am at all naïve to your false show of being modesty." Her cheeks flushed scarlet, but he came back with a comment of sugarcoated sincerity. "However, in spite of everything that you have done already, I do thank you for taking care of me. I-I do still blame you and always will, but you could've left me to die and you didn't."

She nodded but her burdensome sorrow was too great for her to remain in his company any longer. In a moment of clarity she finally saw the brutal torture she'd inflicted on him with her crazed actions. Meg quickly bolted from the room and down the stairs, seeking a refuge in Christine's curtain-shielded bedroom. She usually avoided this room at all costs because of her extreme hatred of the girl, but she needed to seek the comforts of the soft mattress and hear the gentle sounds of the lake lapping upon the rocky shore. This mattress was very soft in comparison with the firmer hardness of Erik's large canopied bed, and she lay back for a minute, choosing not to dwell on the selfishness she'd subjected Erik to, but imagined a life where they came to love each other gradually.

"_I am greedy and trying to rush things. If I gave him time to adapt to a life with me, then he would be more likely to fall in love with me. I will bide my time in waiting to see if I am with child, and I shall maintain as much distance from him as possible. I will serve him meals and assist his wound dressings, but all other contact will be limited."_

But two and a half weeks later he courses came ahead of schedule, and the small timeframe of grief she'd felt for her behavior had since dissipated.

"_Our relations have grown better with each other,"_ she thought as she tore Erik's tattered shirts into rags. _"Perhaps I can try to initiate a romance us between us once more."_

* * *

Erik had been both relieved and confused by Meg's behavior over the past few weeks. It appeared that she was wracked with guilt over her assault on him though she never directly apologized to him for it. Instead she did her best to avoid him, only bringing him meals and small items to occupy his time. The strangest part was that she did not share a bed with him as she had done before. This had been an unexpected welcome initially, but after the first week, the solitude of his captivity began to wear on him after Antoinette Giry's assistance in assimilating him back into society. He tried to engage Meg in conversation when she seldom came into his room, but she would only meekly respond, a vast difference from her normally boisterous personality.

"I have to get her to come back to me! I cannot free myself when I am chained up like this, I have to rely on her to somehow get me loose enough so that I can overcome her, but I cannot do that unless she remains here."

Meg did request however that Erik write a letter to her mother stating that he had some strong leads regarding her whereabouts but that thus far he had no luck in her recovery yet. The only trouble would be for Meg to find a way for the post office to post mark the letter in a region outside of Paris.

Erik's wrist was beginning to heal thanks to Meg's skill as a nurse and the fact that it was completely unfastened, causing the sores and chaffing to subside. The longer chain still confined Erik to the bed and surrounding area by his left wrist, but the small step towards an eventual freedom gave him just a little more hope.

"_I have demonstrated that I acknowledge where she is coming from based on her personal grudges in life, but I have to stay strong in my pursuit to get her to trust me, no matter what the cost."_

His body was stiff from sitting in the same position each day, and when Meg entered the room one day she found him pacing as far as the restraints would permit. She silently applauded herself for thinking to use the larger, thicker linked chain, otherwise he would've broken the smaller linked ones causing him to escape and kill her by now.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, choosing not to hide the irritation in her voice.

"I was tired of sitting, I need to increase blood circulation in my legs," he answered honestly.

"You're searching for an escape, I know you!" She hadn't intended to admit her suspicions, but the accusation just flew from her mouth.

"What! Even if I could find an alternative escape route how could I possibly get out given that I am shackled to the bed?"

"You designed this room, there could be more exits besides the one to the kitchen and the hidden panel behind the armoire." She smirked when she saw his mouth fall open in astonishment. "I am a lot more clever than you previously thought, aren't I?" He simply nodded and looked away.

It wasn't so much that he had planned on using the wardrobe as a means of exit, but he was completely aghast at the level of cunning she possessed. Obviously she had thoroughly searched his home for her to unlock the false wall and find the narrow hallway, though he couldn't ascertain if she had actually followed it.

"I'm sorry that you think I'd foolishly try to escape. I understand your loneliness and desire for companionship, and even if I were not bolted to the bed frame I'd certainly want to help you feel better."

"You're only saying that so I'll release you from the chains," she sulked.

"No, I feel I owe it to your mother to bring you back and try to fill that voice that is clearly present in your heart."

Meg's eyebrow rose in suspicion as she calculated any possible truth in his words. She loved him but trust was a serious issue on both sides. "If you are so keen to cure my sorrow then kiss me."


	11. Chapter 11

"_What?"_

"Kiss me, like you've always dreamed of kissing Christine."

"But I don't love Christine."

"Alison then. You mentioned her name in your sleep before."

He really didn't want to, but if Meg was going to start trusting him he should seize the opportunity as it was given to him. He closed the small distance between them and taking a deep breath, he pressed his trembling lips to hers. She latched onto him immediately, wrapping her arms around him and trying to coax open his mouth to make their embrace more passionate.

Erik was quite reluctant to progress things so quickly. He had never shared so intimate a kiss with anyone before and with his lack of romantic feeling with Meg, he wanted to at least maintain some sense of control for himself. His body wasn't reacting at all to her touches as she graced her hands through his hair, over his back and shoulders and down to his backside. She was trying to incite a reaction with her hard squeezes and breathy moans, but the fear and resentment wouldn't leave him no matter how hard he wanted to give in to her seduction.

Meg was aware of his timidity but steadfastly pursued what she really wanted. She guided him backwards until the back of his knees came in contact with the bed, and with expertise only a dance could possess, she wrapped her leg around his hip and pushed him down with her body weight. She then straddled him as she smiled, staring deeply into his blue eyes as she pressed light kisses around the edges of his mask. She had never tried to remove it despite the fact that she knew how he looked beneath it. _"That is what pushed him and Christine apart, I must honor his wishes and privacy by never urging him to remove the only true amount of privacy he still has."_

"Oh Erik, you truly are beautiful," she sighed in an awed whisper. She continued pushing him backward so that he was fully lying down upon the massive bed. "I want to pleasure you though I will not take you by force. Do I have your permission?" She began to gently roll her hips against his in order to provoke a response from his male organ, though her womanly cycle would prevent any lovemaking for a week.

Erik was scared. His body was starting to grow hot and her movements were rapidly drawing attention from his phallus. He was still unsure of giving himself to her but kept reiterating that it was his only opportunity._ "It's the only way she will trust me enough…"_

"I-I," he stammered before she slammed hard against him. He groaned loudly and responded with a few short thrusts of his pelvis. "Yes, please!" he choked.

He moved to lift her skirt but she stopped him before it could be raised too high to reveal the rag in her underpants. "No, not today," she said quickly, an embarrassed blush plastered on her cheeks. "I promise I will satisfy you, but it's too soon to make love again." Her lips were on his again, moving and caressing before she urged her tongue into his mouth. He accepted, and though very unsure how to adequately match her kissing skill, he followed what she did, bringing her great pleasure.

"You're becoming more sure of yourself and warming to my embraces," she whispered seductively in his ear before gently nibbling it.

"I like your body," he admitted breathlessly. He sat up and gripped her hips, moving them in rhythm with his own so that she could grind against his hard erection. She gripped his shoulders and began to cry out softly as they rocked hard against each other while remaining clothed. "I am a man, Meg, I can't help but give in to a woman who seeks to pleasure him."

Her smile shown bright as she pushed him down again and quickly pulled off his trousers. The cold air on his bare legs shocked him and he suddenly felt very vulnerable in only his shirt. He thought she was going to return to her previous attentions but she strode to the headboard and took in her hand the manacle for his broken wrist.

"What's that for?" he protested.

"To ensure that you stay right where you are. I do not trust you. You still seem quite eager for sex but I must do this, alright?"

"Yes," he grumbled miserably. _"Is this really worth it?" _he kept asking himself. _"There are no guarantees that she will release me."_

She had resumed her place in front of him after making sure that he was secured and then took him into her mouth. He moaned as she began to expertly tantalizing him and he was feeling genuine desire as she worked him.

"Dare I ask how you accomplished these skills?" he hissed. With her mouth already occupied, she simply winked. Erik's eyes were closed, however, as he imagined graceful and charming Alison perched between his legs.

When it was over, Meg wiped the sides of her mouth with her sleeve as Erik, tired but very satisfied, struggled to sit up. "Now that you see I am going nowhere and have acquiesced to your insatiable thirst for me, may I be granted a little more freedom?"

Meg stood, her knees cracking after kneeling on the hard ground for such a time, and she brushed the dust off of her pale pink dress. "I don't trust you that much yet."

"I said that I wouldn't leave you and it's true! I have nothing to gain by leaving you behind as I pursue my freedom because your mother said she would turn me over to the police unless I returned you to her." He began to struggle against the chains, causing desires to flood through her body as she saw him helpless and disheveled after she ravished him.

"I can't let you go, not yet. We want to give in to each other and yet there is no trust that exists between the two of us. Don't you see, we are using each other, waiting to see when the other one will break." Erik blinked with her shrewd assessment of the way each was playing the other as though there were nothing more but pawns in a game of chess.

"How astute, Marguerite Giry," he taunted. "You think you are so clever and that you have the _Phantom of the Opera_ figured out. Know this, dearest Meg; you shall never know me because you have grown into the very thing that you hate."

"And what is that, maestro?"

"You have become a spoiled, selfish Prima Donna like a certain little orphaned diva that we both know."

She could have slapped him then, and in her mind she would have been well within her rights to do so. She was nothing like Christine!

"Oh, I think you know that my words are true, and that is why you have not retorted with a biting remark," Erik continued. He remained lying on the bed where she had left him, though he'd had enough sense to pull his pants up by now. She peered at him with a cool azure flame burning in her squinting blue eyes though she was too enraged to permit the angry words to escape from her mouth. "You act as you will with no regard for others in your life. Your mother cares for you and yet you discard her the way that Christine discarded you. You play with my emotions the way that Christine did and it seems that you can't let go of your ridiculous fantasies that you'd concocted of me from your childhood."

"Such as?" she asked indignantly.

"Such as the notion that based on letters addressed to your mother referring to you as _Empress Giry_, that has somehow been warped into a notion that I meant for you to be my wife."

"And is that so ludicrous a notion? Hardly as ludicrous as a grown man writing letters to the mother of a little girl stating what her future should hold."

"I meant that I could arrange for you to marry into a wealthy noble family!"

"And here you are deciding my fate for me, just like my mother, just like everyone else! That is exactly what I am trying to prevent don't you see that? Maman wanted me to abandon the notion of a love affair with you, but I can make my own decisions and I am going after what I want."

Erik was tired of arguing, and it was putting another rift between the two of them. _"Just go along with what she says. Apologize and move on for she will never stop arguing with you until you stop first."_ "I don't wish to fight with you any longer. I'm sorry. You really have nothing to fear from me, but I will wait as long as it takes and I will try to earn your trust in me in any form possible."

"Any form?"

He didn't like the sound of that, but found he had little choice at the moment but to agree. "Yes, within reason, any form."

She came to lay on the bed beside him, taking his head in her hands as she lightly stroked his hair with feather light touches. She was surprised that he actually moved closer to her so that he was facing her now, and he buried his head in her shoulder. Meg shifted so that her leg was draped over his, but didn't mean to do it in a sexual way. He didn't protest so she simply held him in he arms, feeling his slow, even breathing on her neck.

Meg had thought perhaps he had fallen asleep when she heard his muffled voice ask for the time. "According to your mantle clock, it is 4:27 in the afternoon. Would you like for me to make some dinner?" He nodded and sat up, stretching and yawning.

"I almost fell asleep," he admitted.

"You seemed quite comfortable."

"I was." He wouldn't admit to her that not since he was a child had he been held in such a way, when her mother used to care for him as though he were her orphaned younger brother. It had been close to two decades since he had felt contact like that and surprised himself when he was reluctant to move from the embrace.

Meg smiled and retrieved a small present that she'd purchased for him on her way to market. She had been saving it for when they grew closer together but felt she was making good progress with getting closer to him. It was more money than she would have like to have paid, but she knew that Erik, whether he liked it now or not, would grow to appreciate it in time.

She handed him the small box and he looked at her in confusion. "It is probably a bit early to give this to you, and you may not understand it, but in time I feel it will provide you with great comfort." Erik opened the box to find a plain gold ring, similar to a wedding band. He looked hurt but raised his head to look at Meg for an explanation. "I did not purchase it with the intention of you wearing it as a wedding ring, though that is probably what the goldsmith produced it for. I bought it because it is a plain unadorned ring that you can wear on any finger that you choose, and when you feel alone you know that there is someone who has thought of you."

Erik didn't know what to say, or even how he should feel. _"It is obvious that this is a wedding ring and Meg refers to me on occasion as her husband, but it is one of the few gifts that I have ever received."_ He tried it on the middle finger of his right hand. It fit and was not noticeable as a wedding ring. "Thank you," he said quietly. Meg didn't really know how to interpret Erik's reaction and prompted him as to his thoughts. "I didn't really expect anything…it's hardly common for a captor to spoil their captive with gifts, especially beautiful gold jewelry," he replied with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Have I upset you?" she asked coming to his side once more.

"No. I guess…I don't know what to feel. I appreciate your gift, but I don't know what to make of this ring. I don't know your intentions behind it."

"The only intention is for it to be a comfort to you. I don't pretend to know much about your life, but I have to assume that based on your actions, you have done much of what you have done because of your disassociation with society."

"A valid assessment on your behalf."

Meg was pleased that Erik accepted her gift despite his suspicion of her actions, and left to prepare their meal.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry that this chapter doesn't end with anything exciting, but my brother-in-law is supposed to change my hardrive tonight and I wanted to post this before any information was lost. _

_Thanks for all of your kind reviews, I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations._


	12. Chapter 12

Erik was becoming restless. He stared at the ring on his finger, twirling it around his knuckle with his thumb as he tried to suppress the anxiety that threatened to drive him mad.

It had been two weeks since Meg had given him the ring, seemingly another metal link to wear on his hand and fasten him to her. He wasn't even totally sure why he wore it, given that it further increased his emotional pain each time he acknowledged the shiny gold adornment.

"_I had always thought that Christine would be the one to give it to me,"_ he reflected pitifully. _"Though she fantasizes about it, Meg certainly is no wife. How I long to have a woman that I love and who loves me in return."_

"Honestly, Erik, I don't think men should sulk as often as you do after making love." Meg's voice broke into his thoughts after she stepped out from the bathroom, clad in only his bathrobe.

After her cycle was through, Meg was hell bent on having sex with Erik again. He'd protested at first, saying he was scared or not feeling well, but had to finally acquiesce to prevent her launching into one of her dramatic tirades. They had made love three times already this week and still she did not grant him the freedom that he needed.

"Most men aren't manipulated into sex," he replied bitterly.

"You achieved a level of arousal on your own; I can't force your cock to get hard."

"I just don't understand why you can't grant me some more rights! I do want your body, I want to hold and touch you as we make love. I want to run my hands through your hair and down your body, and be able to love your more freely."

Meg couldn't deny her desire to feel him on top of her, to imagine his weight upon her as he traced passionate kisses along her neck. "You were very vocal this time around; I thought for sure that I had thoroughly satisfied you."

Erik could not deny that this time around she had. In their previous embraces he had held off his climax for as long as possible in hopes that she would get bored and stop. Each time he ejaculated was another opportunity for her to get pregnant, and though he had not problems abandoning her even with his child, it would be just one more thing to complicate the situation further. But this time just seemed to be full of passion and boldness, and the experience had left Erik quite breathless and hoarse upon completion.

He refused to admit to the little harlot though that he wouldn't mind another session if it would be that astounding. _"Good God, what have I been reduced to? Seeking pleasure from my kidnapper?"_ He was ashamed. Meg, on the other hand, seemed pleased at his uneasy state of mind and smirked as she came to his side and unshackled the shorter chain that restricted his motion.

Erik was still naked as he stood, and his knees buckled a little as he made his way to the bathroom. Meg reached to catch his arm despite the fact that he was not in danger of falling, but Erik didn't ask her to remove it to her surprise.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked tiredly.

"What?" she asked with confusion.

"_That."_

"Oh," she giggled at the realization of his words. "Being a dancer leaves one very limber and creative in bed." She pinched his sweaty backside before he shut the door, shooting her an unappreciative glare. As he relieved himself and ran a bath, Meg sat in the sitting room by the shore of the lake, mending some worn clothes and preparing to start some new ones.

"_We have lain together three times already, so my chances of having a baby are much greater now. Poor Erik, he is still so new to the joys in bed and though he tries, he can't control his release. I know he doesn't want me to have a baby, but he will see how it brings people together. Mother and father never got along until after I was born, and then they only had a short time left together in their happiness. Erik should recognize how fortunate he is to have a woman who enjoys her wifely duties to the extent that I do, and also a woman who does it so well."_

She recalled then the sensuous act that had only taken place minutes ago with Erik's loud, lustful cries still ringing in her ears. _"Please, I want to touch you, oh God, _please!" Her body flushed again but she smiled shyly to herself, resuming her boring task with the needle, thread and fabric.

Erik sat in the bath feeling both the blissful calm of release and the ongoing struggle with reality. He felt disgusted that he could feel such exquisite pleasure from the sex they had, and particularly this latest tumble.

"_I feel like slime. I hated it and yet I was so enraptured by how good it felt. How could I, a genius at science and the arts, be brought down by the animalistic act of intercourse? And here I sit, washing off the evidence of our union, knowing that I want to achieve that height of sensation again. Before she can further bind me tonight, I will seduce her. As I lay atop her with her legs spread around me, I shall strangle her into unconsciousness. I can snatch a pin from her hair to unlock the chains!"_ He splashed the water angrily, furious that it hadn't occurred to him before now. _"This has been one of the few chances that I could've had. I must use this time then to my advantage."_

From then on the day had progressed the same as every other day had. Meg had finished her mending before preparing their evening meal and did some reorganizing. Erik had scratched out a piece of music as best he could without his instrument in front of him. After becoming frustrated with the inability to play a real series of notes, he reached for the parchment and wrote down his thoughts in Arabic.

Erik's writing was interrupted when Meg came into the room, and with a soft kiss in his hair, kindly told him that dinner was ready. _"Now why can't she act that sweetly all the time? Perhaps then I might be kinder to her."_

She came in a minute later with two plates of beef and potatoes au gratin, and pulled up a few chairs. Erik was very hungry and ate his food quickly, leaving room for little conversation at dinner. He noticed Meg staring at him as he hastily gulped his wine.

"You are nearly finished and I have had only a few bites," she chastised.

"I'm sorry, I'm just very hungry and this tastes excellent," he commented, making sure to flatter her in the hope that she would be grateful for the compliment and leave him alone. "I must admit that you helped me work up an appetite earlier this afternoon."

She blushed and said nothing more regarding his rude table manners, to which Erik was thankful. She did find it strange, however, when he gathered up his ink and parchment and began to rapidly scrawl strange words across the paper.

"Is that so important that it has to interrupt our dinner?"

"I had been in the middle of a thought when you came in."

"And what thought is that?"

"I write my thoughts down to keep my sanity and I am writing about my day today."

"Oh really," Meg asked coyly. "And at what point of the day are you at now?" In truth, he was writing about what he planned to do to her in a little while, but he responded to her question with only a wink, allowing her to think whatever she wished.

She soon finished her meal, eyeing Erik warily as he seemed so engrossed in his damn writings. _"Perhaps I shall have to study Arabic so that I understand what he wrote."_ She rose from the vanity stool where she'd been seated and walked to the kitchen, cleaning up the mess she'd made while making dinner. Upon her return she was surprised to see Erik laying there on the bed, his eyes closed and his hands folded on his chest. He looked so still and peaceful, almost like a corpse, with the only indication he was alive being the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"_Is it really that late?" _she thought, but glanced at the clock to see that it was only half past seven. Not wanting to retreat to the lonely parlor, she grabbed one of her romance novels and climbed beside Erik on the bed.

Erik felt the bed move and sleepily rubbed his eyes to see Meg curled up on her side and reading. _"No doubt one of her trashy books,"_ he thought with a smirk. Her back was turned away from him and he figured this to be an opportune time to begin his seduction. He yawned and scooted closer to her so that he could wrap his arms around her waist, allowing his erection to settle nicely into her backside. This clearly startled Meg, for she dropped her book and turned to him in surprise.

"Erik, what are-" but his lips were on hers before the sentence could be finished. His embrace was so urgent and stole her breath away as she completely succumbed to the passion.

"Oh Meg," he moaned. "I'm on fire and I've spent the whole day thinking of this morning. I want you so bad, to touch you and to be inside of you."

"You've never before been so forth coming in your ardor," she pondered aloud.

He made sure that his eyes locked on hers so that she could witness the brilliant blaze that emanated from them. "I've never experienced pleasure like earlier today and I am eager for an encore." He sat up and hitched up her skirts, thinking that for the first time he was able to take control as he nestled between her thighs.

"Shall I assume the position?" she asked coyly, and though tempted to acquiesce, Erik shook his head in the negative as he firmly groped her breasts, another new sensation to him.

"Can I see these?" he practically begged and Meg arched her back, spurning him on. He ripped the bodice in half and yanked down the fabric of her chemise to expose the voluptuous, fleshy mounds to his wide-eyed view. He tasted them and pinched the hard nipples, but did not linger as he bunched her skirt up further to her waist.

"Aren't you going to allow me to undress?" Meg frowned, but Erik did not want to give her a chance to secure him again and he firmly lay atop her.

"No time," he panted as he worked the buttons on his wool trousers until his member sprang free. Meg reached out to feel to the smooth, stretched texture and found him to be harder than any time previous which served to only increase her stimulation.

"_How I've longed to feel him take control like a husband is supposed to while bedding his wife. I feel like I should still bind him, though whether it's from habit or instinct I'm not sure. He is still restrained and won't get very far without the key that is safely hidden in the kitchen. Besides, I really liked it when he pushed himself on top of me, like it was completely natural."_

"God, Meg, you're going to make me spill all over your hand!" Erik exclaimed, breaking Meg from her contemplation. She had only been vaguely aware that she'd been fiercely pumping his erection, her actions encouraged by her intense desire. She immediately ceased the motion and allowed Erik to push her back on the bed as he hastily stripped her of her undergarments.

When he saw how easily she succumbed to the seduction, he saw his freedom as being easily attainable and was eager to make love to Meg in order to get it over with. He was not so righteous as to think that he would be a martyr to his actions, he knew he'd get pleasure out of fucking her as well, but the thought of being out of these chains and back to the modest comforts of his small country home seemed so much sweeter than the crevice between Meg's legs.

Erik winced as he felt a heavy ache in his wrist when he tried to set his weight upon it, so instead he held on loosely to the headboard as he clambered on top of Meg. Her legs parted some more and the image of the erotic scene of him between her raised knees made him unconsciously lick his lips as she positioned him at her opening. He plunged inside of her without thought and quickly began a rapid tempo that caused her to cry out and the large bed to move with each thrust.

His lust for her at this moment was intense but it was truly the adrenaline that drove the passion in his actions. It was true that she had never looked more beautiful than being ravished now, with her bodice so perfectly split down the middle, her hair coming undone and him resting in the valley of her parted thighs. The pressure of his release was gradually building and he knew in his sick mind that he would derive the ultimate satisfaction only when Meg was unconscious. The thought of sweet revenge plunked into his head at the prospect of role reversal and plundering _her_ body as it lay tied-up and vulnerable, causing a sharp cry of delight to unexpectedly escape from his mouth.

"Erik," Meg panted as sweat became visible along her brow line. "I find…that…you are quite…adept…at the skills of…claiming your…husbandly rights."

"I am a passionate man," he replied between labored breaths. "You've known that all along." He groped her breasts again and used his broken hand to grab her wrist and pin it to the bed post. Meg, in her blind ecstasy, did not seem to realize that her control on the situation was quickly being lost.

"Deeper, Meg, I want to go deeper," he pleaded in an effort to distract her from his true intentions. She raised her hips and he pushed harder into her as he pulled her right hand to join the other. Her breaths were becoming shallower and her cries revealed the urgency in which she wanted to climax.

"_This is it,"_ Erik thought with an unrestrained excitement like he'd never felt. His right hand, even though in the ongoing process of healing, was still strong enough to imprison Meg's little hands, and he used his left to slowly crawl up her half bare chest until it reached her throat. He delicately traced the skin below her chin and around her ear before pressing hard on her throat.

This caught Meg's attention. Her eyes burst open, first looking down at his hand on her throat, then above her towards her captured, defenseless wrists. Those eyes then grew larger in panic when she began to fear for her life as the pressure increased and the oxygen intake quickly subsided.

"What're you doing, let me go, please! Release me!" she begged.

"Oh, I'll release you," he murmured. Digging the nail of his finger into her chin and cutting it as he gently kissed her forehead.

"Oh my God, no, I don't want to die, not like this!"

He said nothing in response, allowing the poor girl to struggle for her life. The demon flesh of his that still lay within her grew thicker with a vulgar, bloodthirsty lust and he worked her harder, using his grip on her throat as a bracing point.

The consuming insanity that enveloped him was driving him with an inhuman force. Loud grunts came from deep within his chest cavity as Meg's face began to drain of color.

"_Just a few more seconds-"_

The shock came when her body closed around his shaft in a violent orgasm, a natural reaction from her body to tighten the muscles before falling unconscious. An odd choking noise was heard when the stranger reaction took over her body as she squirmed about.

Erik's body responded with a powerful release of his own. The thrill of revenge on Meg and an approaching escape had excited him to the point of unbridled want, but with her body's orgasm, the reaction was just too much. He cried out as the sweat dripped into his eyes, his body feeling tired and heavy from over exertion. He unintentionally loosened his grip enough for her to take a deep breath and wrench free her wrist.

"_What just happened? I had no idea her body would tighten up like that! I've blown it, what's going to happen now?"_

He was completely aghast at the situation and what to do next. He couldn't rationalize this to her! She now knew of his motives to kill her, but as he lay there atop her, his eyes settled on her flat stomach for a few brief seconds. Meg used this lapse to reach to the bedside and snatch the heavy mantel clock. Erik looked up at her shift in movement to see it crash into his forehead.

A searing pain flooded his head and knocked his mask askew so that he could not see his assailant. A second blow stunned him on the crown and finally the pain with the third one knocked him out, causing him to fall forward onto the soft trembling flesh below him.

_

* * *

A/N: I do not promote sexual asphyxiation because it can be deadly, but it served the purpose of my story well. Please don't do it, it's dangerous._


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: In this version, Erik is more disfigured than he was in the movie, but I don't like the idea of him wearing a hairpiece, so the brown hair was natural. Just an FYI. Enjoy and thanks for reading/reviewing._

* * *

Meg's hands were still trembling as she hastily discarded the heavy mantel piece, allowing it to fall upon the bed. She had no idea if she'd killed him or not, but she scrambled from beneath his heavy weight, tears cascading down her pale cheeks as she shakily planted her feet on the floor. She stood in the corner of the room closer to the door, waiting a few terrifyingly long minutes to see if he would move and pursue her once more.

"_I can't determine from this distance if he is breathing. I hope I haven't killed him, though he would surely have strangled me to death. What do I do with him now?"_

She wrapped her arms around her waist, suddenly remembering that her breasts were fully exposed. She reached for the robe that Erik had shed in the moments leading up to his passion, and she noted how red and sore her chest was from his fervent groping. He still lay on the bed, completely motionless, though now small spots of blood were spreading across the satin duvet cover from both the head gash and from where the mask had broken the skin on his face. Despite her terror, Meg was grateful to observe the small movements of his chest with each deep breath, proving that he was still alive, though in much pain. _"I shouldn't have given it back to him. I took it when I brought him here but gave it back upon his insistence." _

It was then that Meg was struck with the ideal location where he could remain secured but still reside underground and close enough to her. _"He shall not need a mask for the Communal dungeons anyway."_

She stripped off the remains of her blouse from beneath the robe and used the strips to tie-up Erik's wrists and ankles. She then retrieved the key to his manacles and unlocked the single chain binding him to the heavy frame. She was about to throw him off the bed when she noticed his trousers were still open and blushing, she tucked him back inside the warm wool of his clothes. She extracted a bottle of ether from a drawer in the kitchen where she had last left it before painstakingly dragging his body down the few long corridors and to the menacing row of cells. She dropped him on the floor as she stood and caught her breath for a minute, then lugged him the last short distance through an open iron door and to a corner of his new prison. However, it then occurred to her that she didn't possess this set of keys to unlock the door once he remained confined. _"Perhaps Erik has a ring of keys in his home. I'm sure these cell blocks served a purpose for him at one time, and he could very well have fashioned a set of keys himself."_

Meg proceeded to untie his wrists only to shackle them once more with the old iron restraints on the walls. Her captive did not stir the whole time and Meg began to fear that she might have badly damaged his skull.

"_I will wait to see how he fares. After all, what else was I supposed to do? At least he had his clothes on or I would have had to drag him here stark naked!"_

She glanced around at the foreboding stone enclosure, an ominous reminder of one of the darker chapters in Parisian history. There were no luxuries, not even a window, since they were still far below ground. Three thick masonry walls coated in slime and moisture surrounded the unfortunate resident of this room, and the fourth side was a row of large, round iron bars that one could barely stick their arm through. A small round trough was cut into the floor beneath the chains with a channel running down behind the wall, which the captivated and calculating blonde could only assume was a latrine, designed so that it would not need to be emptied by a guard.

"_Men must have starved down here with no one to tend to even their waste removal," _Meg thought grimly. _"These rooms were built for people to be completely forgotten by society above."_ She began to think twice about bringing Erik here, but knew it was safer for her if he was locked in here than with her in the home where she was currently living.

Meg hesitated leaving him should he stop breathing, but left to bring back the supplies that she could not transport with his body. She quickly flew about Erik's former home, grabbing small comforts that she knew she herself would not have been able to live without, and she stuffed them within a pillowcase. Her injured captive had not moved in her absence and so she went about depositing the items she'd grabbed: a blanket and pillow, waste paper, a notepad and drawing pencils and the first random book that she had grabbed from the bookcase. She arranged them so that they'd be near him when he woke up…_should_ he wake up. Frowning, Meg nestled the pillow behind his undoubtedly aching head and draped the blanket over him. She then tended to the cuts on his face where his mask had been dislodged, and her fingertips lingered over the swollen, misshapen face. Approximately half of it looked as though no skin were present at all, as if it were bits of blistered and puckered muscle tissue. His nose had clearly broken many times in his life, and was now crooked, whereas it might have at once been prominent and distinguished. _"Like Raoul's,"_ Meg thought wryly, though she knew Erik probably would slap her if he heard such a remark from her. She brushed the thick locks of dark brown hair from his forehead to dab rubbing alcohol at the deep scratches there, then at the deep cut on his lower cheek.

She stepped back and a sad smile crept across her face as she admired him. _"He looks very peaceful, despite the circumstances. I hope he cannot feel the pain while unconscious." _Meg remembered the tender moments they had shared, up until his sexual assault only an hour previous. She had not noticed until now, but she was sore between her legs from the violent force of his thrusts, and her neck would soon be forming ghastly bruises from where the life was being choked out of her. _"He tried to kill me just a short while ago, so why am I being so nice to him? I should be glad if he never wakes up! And yet, here I am, fearful to close this gate in the event that I will never find a way to release him. He never wanted me, so why should I care what happens to him based on how I've been treated?"_

Meg stood on the outside of the cell, her hands resting on the cold bars that would secure his murderous rage. Memories flickered through her head of the resent she felt towards her mother, the bitterness and jealousy for Christine, and finally the deadly, blinding passion that fully consumed her regarding Erik. With an anguished cry and furious tug, the massive iron gate clanked shut.

The cold, damp air penetrated Erik even through his slumber, and he shivered as he awoke, realizing how uncomfortable he was. His mind was foggy and he had a pounding headache as he surveyed the scene before him, struggling to name the familiar surroundings. He was vaguely aware of the thick chains that enslaved him to the wall. Instead, the haze of his brain attempted to piece together the small fragments of his time with Meg that could lead to his captivity within the confines of this jail.

"_I don't even know how long I have been here. I don't feel hungry, nor do I feel an immediate need to use the toilet. The pain in my head is still very prominent, so the wound must have been obtained recently."_ He leaned his head back against the slimy stone, suppressing the terror that threatened to invade his better judgment.

"You've moved, that's a good sign," a feminine voice warbled. He shifted his field of vision to see Meg Giry, the girl he'd been sent to retrieve, smirking on the other side of the bars. He eyed her, as if trying to bring up some long-forgotten memory, and she seemed to grow uneasy from his awkward staring. "Are you trying to recall how you came to be in here?" Erik nodded. "You don't remember what just happened?" she shrieked.

"Why would you ask if you presumed that I remembered?" he croaked.

"Still sharp-tongued, even with a nasty head injury, which I am sure that you must possess from the blows you received. As a matter of fact, you were brought here because of your own actions. Believe me, I don't want you here any more than you'd like to be here, and I am finding the bed is rather lonely without you to heat it up." Meg chuckled as she saw his face pale slightly. _"Does he even recall the fact that we've been intimate?" _she thought.

"You came to be in there for my own safety, and you have been unconscious for about four and a half hours" she said after a few moments of silence. "You see, you were in the midst of _fucking_ me when the thought occurred to you that killing me might seem to be a good idea. I can better see now why sex is the perfect weapon for women to use against men. It even brought down the mighty Phantom!"

Erik felt powerless against her ruthless, manipulative accusations. He hoped the memory of his actions would return so that he would less be at the mercy of such a tragically sick ballerina.

"I do, however, have a question that if you can provide the correct answer, will grant you some better comforts while you remain where you are. By any chance, do you happen to still have in your possession the keys to these cells?"

A simple "yes" was the only reply that he could muster in his agonized state. _"Things just keep going from bad to worse."_

Meg was relieved to hear that she would not need to hack her way through the strong bars. "Where are they?"

Erik sighed, a heavy sound that indicated his exhaustion and resentment of being restrained within a cage. They are in a false panel in my desk. Knowing your penchant for snooping, I would find it highly unlikely if you had not already discovered it."

"No, I haven't," she replied softly, her mood suddenly altered to glimpse the guilt she felt. Although he had attempted to murder her, she still wish there had been an alternative method for his isolated imprisonment, given that she was aware of the captivity he'd endured for years in his childhood.

"Is there anything else that I might bring you to ease your discomfort?"

"My head hurts, badly. Please bring me a few plant leaves to chew."

"Feverfew? Is it labeled?"

"It is in the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom, in a small wooden box. You'll recognize the leaves when you see them."

Meg turned as if to leave, allowing her hand to linger on the bars just a few moments longer, but turned back to him to speak. "Erik, you understand why you're here, right?"

"You've explained to me a hundred times that we are destined for each other and I would grow to love you, yes, I know that," he waved dismissively.

"Yes, but…but why you're _here_."

"I assume because I became a little too aggressive with my mating practices."

She scowled at him, immediately enraged at his arrogance and nonchalant attitude towards murder. "Yes. When I began to trust you and you violated that trust. _Keep your friends close but your enemies closer._ Well I still refuse to let you go, though I could have still have you arrested for rape and attempted, and that is excluding the crimes of your past."

It quickly came crashing down upon him as Erik's memory burst to life with the events that had led him to this place: the seduction, the foiled plot and the beautiful but terrified face of Meg as he gripped her air passage. "Rape?" he screamed incredulously, only able to rise to a crouching position with his restrictions. "You were most certainly willing, or do you forget that you were practically growling like a bitch in heat? I believe you have the role of the rapist confused with yourself."

"I prefer the term _seductress_ since you yourself said that it is hardly possible to rape a man." Erik crossed his arms and looked away, ashamed of the painful images of his first sexual encounter with a woman that stripped his virginity from him.

"_Perhaps if she had hit me harder I would be able to lose those memories too,"_ he reflected miserably.

"You are still here," Meg continued. "Because my heart is adamant that you are meant to be with me. We are meant to live as husband and wife, though you refuse to sanctify our union in a church. I've possessed your body, and your heart will also belong to me in time."

The chill that ran through Erik alarmed him as he heard the calculating words that Meg spoke and knew that he was not shivering from the cold.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Apparently it takes being sick in the midst of a mini ice storm on a national holiday in order for me to update. I'm really sorry, this chapter was mostly written a month ago but I was stuck working so much overtime that I didn't get a chance to finish it and post it. A thousand apologies, but thanks for sticking with my story as it is much appreciated._

* * *

Meg hated leaving Erik all alone in his dark prison, and hated even more the fact that he had to remain restrained. _"If he were not fastened to the wall he could surely find a way to escape. I can't have him seek me out to kill me again."_

It had been three weeks since he attempted her murder, but she diligently strode the long narrow hallway three times daily in order to feed him and keep him company. She was still very angry over the altercation, but found that her undying devotion never waned when it came to his care. It also afforded her the chance to diminish her loneliness she'd felt since they'd last shared a bed together in her home.

"My_ home?"_ she thought with a smirk. _"I suppose it is my home right now. Perhaps Erik will someday repent for his actions and if I believe that he's sincere in his apology, then perhaps I could reconsider our cohabitation arrangement."_

Meg had been so bored of late without much to occupy her time. Each day was spent cleaning and cooking, but with the remaining time of the day there was little stimulation that could keep her mind off of her prisoner. She would practice her dance steps or try to read a book, but Erik and the child that she hoped she carried were all that seemed to fill her brain. She would have to wait at least a few more weeks before she knew for certain and still she prayed each night for a blessed child in her arms to call her own. She still possessed much of the wealth that Erik had amassed in his years living in the opera house and with that she would purchase furniture and other items necessary to raise a child.

"_The possibility remains that I might not be pregnant and I can't get my hopes up if that is the case. If I am not with child by Erik then I might need to resort to any other means necessary to get myself impregnated. But I really want to have a child by him," _she reflected sadly.

The questions regarding Erik's possible paternal involvement also filled her mind. She knew she was getting ahead of herself since she did not know for certain, but what would he do if she really was expecting?

"_I couldn't possibly get my hopes up that he'd want this child. We've only made love a handful of times and it took mother two years to conceive me. If I am with child, when would be the appropriate time to tell Erik? If I am not, what is to become of us?"_

Meg's head began to pound from the aggravation of her thoughts. In an effort to distract herself from the wild concoctions of her imaginary domestic lifestyle, she decided to take a little extra spending money and treat herself to a new dress and shoes. _"I'm feeling pretty low at the moment so I have a right to treat myself to some beautiful things."_

She donned the brown curly wig that had belonged to Christine's faux likeness, though she'd since punched a hole in the mannequin's wax face and dismembered the limbs from a previous fit of rage. Meg hated having a need to wear the fake hair all the time, feeling very similar to how Erik must feel when he went to the surface, but she needed an alias so as not to risk being detected by the authorities, or worse, her mother. She pulled on the wool cloak and hood, even though warm weather had already started it's late April approach, and strode quickly though the tunnels. She did not bother to stop and see Erik, knowing that she would be distracted and stay with him, and she soon emerged in a Parisian back alley.

Her appearance was rather humble and Meg knew that the boutiques would probably snicker and look down on her, though it did not deter her from her desire for a pretty, feminine dress to brighten her spirits. _"My wardrobe is only full of dark colors and itchy wool. It'll be nice to wear something like pink or yellow or lavender again."_

The bells chimed merrily on the door as she entered one small shop and smiled at the young woman behind the counter. She was kind and did not appear to condescend over Meg, something for which she was appreciative.

"If you would be so kind, could you assist me with a nice dress? I'm afraid that living in the countryside does not allow me the luxury of such fine guys as you can see," Meg said as she indicated her drab brown skirt and dingy blouse that at one time had been white. "I recently received a sum of money through an inheritance and I decided to indulge myself in some Parisian shopping."

"Well I'm pleased that you've chosen our little establishment. My name is Marguerite," replied the kindly young woman. She couldn't have been much older than Meg herself, but stood taller and had brown hair twisted ornately at the back of her head.

Meg nodded but resumed her lie, not wanting her true identity to be revealed. "I am Elise," she said plainly but with a smile. Marguerite beamed again and began to browse through the ready-made dresses before allowing "Elise" to sort through the fabrics.

"They are so lovely," Meg muttered as she traced her hand over a bundle of yards of peach silk with embossed flowers.

"Of course we can custom design a dress if you have a specific style and color that you desire," offered the shopkeeper.

Meg turned away, not wanting the added expense and delay. She was lucky to find a store with a few dresses in stock, as most boutiques were only custom order. From the rack she selected a powder blue dress with a modest bust line and off the shoulder sleeves, each adorned with a small bow. Marguerite led her to the pedestal where she would do minor alterations to the dress before it was finally purchased. Despite the fact that she was not short, the gown was still a little long on Meg, so Marguerite happily chatted away as her customer stared blankly at the mirror.

"Do you have a gentleman?" Marguerite inquired cheerfully.

"What?" Meg asked, startled from her daydream.

"A suitor. Here I am chatting away about me when I have not been kind enough to ask you about yourself."

"Oh yes, I do have a suitor. His name is Erik."

"That's nice. What does he do? Have you any plans to marry?"

Meg didn't know how she should respond to the questions, but was grateful to have someone else to talk to. "Erik is an architect, though I think his passion is with music. I do not know about any marriage plans as we are still just growing to know each other."

"Well so long as he treats you right then I hope the best for the two of you. You're such a lovely girl, though, that if things do not work out then you will be able to attract any man in this city!" Both women smiled at each other in the mirror and Meg was happy that she had decided to make the impulse purchase, even if it just led to interaction with another human being. "I am done pinning this," Marguerite continued. "Would you like for us to keep it overnight and we can shorten the hem?"

"Thank you but no, I am very eager to leave with this dress tonight. I will fix it when I return home." Meg hastily paid for the garment and scurried from the store, eager to mend and wear her lovely new frock.

* * *

Erik had been sitting on the damp stone floor, angrily scribbling away in his private notes before he heard Meg stroll down the hall, presumably with his supper.

"_Three weeks I have been trapped within this God forsaken Hell. As the _Phantom_ I could wander the halls as I pleased on every level of the facility, and now I am trapped within this rock and iron space, my only contact being with the crazy daughter and kidnapper of my former friend. How long will I have to live like this?"_

Tears of desperation stung Erik's eyes as he finished writing the passage. His fingers ached from the lengthy entry, but pain could be felt everywhere in his body. The large bump on the back of his head had long been healed but his legs were stiff from his inability to rise higher than a crouch. His entire backside was sore from sitting so long on a hard surface and from being leaning on an uneven wall. His childhood had been rough, but he realized that over the years he had taken advantage of fine sheets, indoor water plumbing and most especially his ability and freedom to play music. Even his golden voice sounded hoarse and dull within these confines and he refused to sing another note for the duration of his imprisonment.

Erik heard the familiar footsteps of Meg's boots and was just a little bit happier for the food that she'd bring. He had never realized that she could cook since she had grown up here in the opera house, but apparently Antoinette had taught her well. Thank God for small mercies.

Meg almost looked angelic as she appeared from around the stone wall. Her long hair was kept down for a change and the rustle of her fine blue dress was heard instead of the coarseness of her usual wool attire. Erik noted the periwinkle shade matcher her eyes perfectly and complimented her fair features.

"Playing dress up today?" he remarked sarcastically, eager to remind himself of the bitter feelings he harbored for her.

She did not waver in her uncharacteristic elegance but instead smile charmingly. "Yes, I am. I am tired of the dull colors that are in my wardrobe so I thought that I'd treat myself to a pretty dress. Do you like it?" she asked, spinning around like a little coquette.

"It suits you. I am thankful that your breasts aren't spilling out of the top like they usually do," he replied bluntly.

Meg was not surprised to hear such crass words spew from his mouth. "I see you staring at that region all the time regardless of the cut of my blouse, so knowing that you'll never again be intimate with a woman, I am kind enough to give you some stimulation to quell your lust. Perhaps if I do decide to adjust the bodice I can also adjust the crotch of your pants as well; it seems like there are certain times when you could use more fabric to cover you up as well." She smirked when she saw his face turn red from embarrassment and a scowl form over his smug mouth.

"Why are you here? Do you wish to torment me as a form of amusement? If you have brought dinner with you then please set it on the floor. Otherwise leave me in peace," he said with attempted authority, however knowing that he possessed none.

"Leave it here, outside the door?" she taunted. "I hardly think it would fulfill your hunger from out there."

"You know what I meant," he replied, exasperated and tired of her strange games.

"Very well." She unlocked the door and entered, setting the hot food on the floor within his reach. He grabbed for the tray greedily and set it on his lap, taking care first to dip his hands in the small bowl of water provided so as not to infect his food. Meg squatted beside him a little so as not to soil her dress and grimaced as she heard her leg crack loudly.

"That has never happened. Have you been practicing your dancing?" Erik asked worriedly.

"Of course! I dance for exercise and because I have little else to do."

"Not everyday, or for as long as you should."

"What business is it of yours?" she snapped. "Are you a dance instructor as well? I have been walking today and my legs are just tired from the journey." Meg refused to admit that her body was getting older, despite her good health, and that she had only a few years of intense choreography left. She had always dreaded this time in her life when she would no longer possess the able body to move so freely about the stage and still look maintain her grace.

Erik said nothing in response and was silent until she departed just minutes later.


	15. Chapter 15

Although he'd always made sure in years past to keep himself occupied, Erik could only feel an overwhelming sense of boredom, a sensation that he despised. He had already read and reread the assortment of books that littered the frigid ground at his feet, and he found little use in writing down his personal thoughts as it only served to remind him of the hopelessness of his plight. It appeared that the formerly vivacious and well-admired ballerina had outsmarted everyone, including the clever Phantom.

"_Why did she have to succumb to bitterness? She was such a beautiful young woman, and still is. There is still hope for her to ease the pain in her wounded heart."_

Erik stopped himself in his thoughts, the hypocrisy behind them causing him to shake his head. Her behavior was sadly coming to resemble the character he had once been when he was so enamored with Christine, and true shame fell upon him at the disturbing reminder of his actions.

"_I am responsible. Not only am I the target of her affection, but because she has followed the sample that I've set, as though she were a child adopting the bad temperaments of a parent. I am doomed to die here alone, even after I have repented and moved on due to that atrocity of my actions which cannot go unpunished. I have not only tarnished Christine's blind innocence in regards to any bad creatures in this world, but I have also in turn jeopardized the very sanity of the daughter to my only friend!"_

Erik's head fell back against the cold river rock and a few tears seeped from the corners of his tired eyes. Reasons like this were what ensured that he keep himself busy throughout the day…so he need not analyze the negative actions he'd done in his thirty-seven years on this earth. He turned his head to the left, examining the stained paper that lay beside him, anger flashing on his face at the image so hastily scrawled on the page. Other artist's might view the superfluous drawing as a raw demonstration of the creator's talent, demonstrated with nothing more than a few crude drawing tools. Erik viewed it as a nightmare come to fruition, the tangible realization of his honest longing plainly visible should Meg come around the corner.

He'd sketched her right after he'd seen her in the pale blue dress, using a rock of gold ocher to highlight her hair, and a chipped piece of slate to color her dress. It was certainly not one of his more masterful works of art, but it held some significance as he rotted away in damp misery. In seeing her that way, he'd glimpsed a piece of her that still took pride in her beauty and still retained the charm that had dazzled the men of the theatre. He had thought it had been lost, replaced with an obsessive, possessive insanity when she'd brought him here, but it seemed that she was still eager to make her man proud. He didn't want her to ever find it in fear of her having a relapse and becoming delusional once again regarding his fictitious affections for her. As long as the document remained here in secret for only him to view, it gave Erik just that small measure of hope that she could go back to being the pretty little blonde dancer rather than a lost soul drowned in the grips of madness.

* * *

He hadn't realized that he'd fallen asleep until he heard the clank of metal which indicated Meg's imminent arrival. The drawing of her was not at his side but he'd carefully rolled it and put it back in its place behind the loose mortar and stone. _"When did I put it back? When was I last looking at it?"_ Erik couldn't remember lodging it within the small space behind the cobblestone, but he also knew that the isolation was affecting him. He had lost all concept of day or night, did not sleep at regular intervals and was completely dependent on Meg for meals and materials. She came into his view then, no longer dressed in the pale blue dress that he'd admired, but instead swathed in a dark dress of brown wool. 

"_How many days ago did I see her in that? Have I lost my mind? All of the days are the same."_

Meg appeared to be solemn but she dutifully entered his cell with a bowl of soup and a basin of fresh water for washing. She looked tired and seemed to have a lot on her mind as she knelt down beside him.

"It's not much, but I've made you some vegetable soup," she said quietly.

"I'm cold, it will be nice to have something warm," he replied kindly. This was the first time in a while that she looked so despondent which incited some curiosity in Erik.

"If you're cold then you might want to wash up first so that you can warm up afterwards. The soup needs to cool down anyway."

It was sometimes difficult for him to bathe because of the chains, and he usually protested whenever Meg would offer to assist. She unbuttoned the sleeves of his dirty and torn shirt that had once been white, and this time he did not lash out when she ran the chilly cloth over his chest, back and arms. He winced as the cold penetrated the raw scrapes on his skin from where he'd sat against the rocks for so long and she wordlessly passed over those spots more gently with the next caress.

To avoid him catching a chill, Meg helped him put his shirt back on before she cleansed his bottom half. In the weeks of his imprisonment in this dank cell, she had not brought him a change of clothes, which he found a little surprising and he voiced this observation.

"I don't know why I haven't brought a change for you," his captor stated without emotion. "Perhaps I will remember tomorrow."

Erik thought that perhaps she was punishing him additionally, that maybe he should wallow in the filth of his actions. Even with the cleaning regiments twice a week, he still felt dirty from the squalid conditions in which he was living.

Meg helped him ease off his trousers and he turned to the side so that she could clean his underside and the back of his legs. His backside was stiff and sore; the days where he didn't feel like eating were taking its toll by slowly eating the cushioning fat that resided there and on his upper thighs. He settled himself back down and she wordlessly handed him the rag so that he would be spared the humiliation of her cleaning his own genitals. He finished with his legs and feet and she tossed the dingy piece of scrap cloth in the small bowl as he yanked on his breeches.

She sat back and watched him as he devoured the soup, grateful to feel the hot vegetable broth slide down his aching throat. He noted between heavy gulps of nourishment that she looked very sad, with her knees drawn to her chest and her arms pulled around her legs. She was looking off to the side with her uncombed hair laying in tangles across her left shoulder and obstructing Erik's view of her. He was worried because she did not at all resemble the cunning creature that he'd known her to be all these weeks.

"You are so pensive," he said inelegantly. "What is bothering you?"

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"It does not appear that way."

The truth was that Meg had found some blood in her undergarments, dashing her hopes for a desperately anticipated child with Erik. She'd been crushed when she'd discovered it, launching into hysterics and curling up in bed for much of the day. She was surprised that he had not inquired about his two missed meals. She could still find a man on the street to lie with and admit that it was still his baby, but five weeks had already gone by since their last union and even if she became with child on this very day, he would still inquire as to why she'd carried for ten months.

Meg had no feeling in her anymore, as though she were an empty void that walked these caverns as a hollow shell. All she'd hoped for, all she'd dreamt of were always dashed for some reason, like her desires were not enough to come true by the hands of God. She found that she longed for some type of support, though she'd learned long ago to shield her true feelings away from others. She wanted to cry on Erik's shoulder as he held her tightly and assured her that things were fine, but she could not reveal the knowledge of her empty womb to him. It devastated her to know, but it would absolutely kill her to admit the truth aloud.

"I'm sorry, I'm just overly tired," she said after a moment of uneasy silence. "I wasn't feeling well enough to prepare you a whole meal."

Erik was startled by her formal and frigid tone. Gone were the high-spirited remarks meant to demean and put him in his position, but instead were replaced with an icy air of indifference. _"Much like her mother,"_ he mused silently.

She reached for the bowl that had been beside him upon completion of his meal and stood, wobbling just slightly from the dizziness she felt at the abrupt movement.

Erik witnessed her very unusual lack of coordination and offered her his arm for balance. She clasped his hand, a strange reflexive movement that caught them both off guard, and stood still for a moment to allow her equilibrium to adjust.

"I'm sorry. I am going to lie down. I don't understand why I am feeling so poorly today." She took only the dinner dishes with her, thinking it best that she not carry a duel load while so unsteady on her feet.

The feeling of unease increased in Erik, though he was not sure that he could explain why.

* * *

Meg laid herself down to rest for a while after falling temporarily ill in Erik's presence. _"It must have been the pain of the day, and then being with him knowing that I did not have his child within me."_

She felt bitter now and observed that there was no more blood in her underclothes. _"Perhaps it will be alright if I catch myself a man tonight."_ She knew it was very rash and irresponsible, but it was her choice as an adult and she was free to make mistakes now that she was absent from her overbearing mother.

A smile reflected back at her as Meg brushed her hair and applied a modest amount of makeup to highlight her features. She changed from the unflattering brown wardrobe she'd worn all day to a tight white blouse and black skirt accented by small embroidered flowers at the hemline. She'd chosen a corset to make her best attributes stand out to the full attention of the males she'd meet, and grabbing her cape, she set out to venture into the dark corners of the night.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Good grief, it's about damn time! This chapter has been written for about a month, but my computer is pretty much on the verge of death (ie: unable to save documents without it crashing) and work's been hectic so I don't have much time to type/write. Case in point, I had to reboot my computer no less than five times just now to get the document uploaded to this website. Regardless, I'm sorry._

* * *

It was a cool spring night and Meg gripped the heavily-lined wool cape tighter around her body as she passed down the moonlit avenues of Parisian boutiques and set out for a nearby tavern. The ladies of the night would be out soon calling for prospective customers, but she hoped she wouldn't have to reduce herself to that. 

"_What the hell am I doing?" _she thought angrily. _"Did my mother raise me this way? Am I so desperate to have a child that I will consort with just any man to spread my legs?"_ She stopped in her tracks for a moment, her eyes flittering around her surroundings and allowing them to settle on the starry sky of the night _"Yes, it was my mother that reduced me to this; to seek attention from men the only way that I know how. If she had cared and nurtured me the way a mother is supposed to then I wouldn't feel this neglect so deep in my heart, I am longing for someone of my own to look after and love unconditionally. Even if Erik is not a part of the child's life, I can raise it on my own, just as my mother did, though I know what mistakes I should not repeat."_

Meg resumed her pace, her destination finally set as she approached the avenue crowded with licentious figures. As the men saw the figure of a curvaceous fair-haired woman, they shouted crude remarks and pleas to have a night warming her bed. She smiled flirtatiously at them, encouraging their behavior though she found none of them were worthy as an appealing bedfellow.

She made her way through the throng of drunken Cassanovas and pulled open the door to the popular local drinking establishment. Her nostrils were instantly filled with the vulgar odors of liquor, smoke and sweat and she had to stifle a gag as she entered the crowded bar area. Her gaze darted around, taking in the scenes of men laughing over their beers and the wild eyes that roamed her body as she stood there uncertainly. A gorgeous female such as herself had no business being here, and those that were in the immediate vicinity turned their heads awkwardly at her. She wasn't sure where to go further and once again questioned her motives for coming here.

"Well hello, cherie, what are you doing here without your chaperone?" Meg turned her head towards the slurred voice and cringed at the scraggly man who stumbled forward in her direction. "I think by the looks of it you could use one," he continued with a sneer. "I'll certainly be the first to volunteer."

Joseph Bouquet sprang to her mind with his gruff appearance and cocky swagger. Although she was desperate for a one-night encounter, she refused to bring herself so low as to raise her skirt for _him_.

"Such a kind offer," she spat. "But I think I'll have to deny."

"Why else would you be here but to turn tricks?" he snarled. With his voice raised her drew some attention, but the tavern appeared to either be severely lacking in gentlemen or altercations between harlots and customers happened often, for no one stepped out to defend her.

"I am looking for a man of higher station and even higher standards of personal hygiene than yourself."

The stranger laughed and ran a grimy hand through her hair. "I like your sense of humor, I'll pay extra for that."

"Excuse me?"

"You're price," he repeated irritably. "How much for fifteen minutes in the alley?"

Meg was taken off guard. She was willing to give herself to a man, but she had standards and would not accept payment for the sake of copulating with any ruffian she would encounter tonight. "I'm not for sale. I am not the sort of woman that you think I am."

"What makes you think you're better than me, sweetheart? You're a streetwalker and you can't be anything more because what woman of class would be out so late at night. I will pay you fifty francs for your services."

Meg was outraged to know that this filthy slob thought her well-sculpted figure was worth so little. "Sir, I know that I am here alone but don't insult me!"

"That's all I have to offer. Another time perhaps," he muttered and walked out. Meg heaved a sigh of relief and waited patiently for the bartender to finish serving orders before catching his eyes and smiling.

"Do you have any customers that frequent this place and are they respectable?"

The bartender chuckled, though he was not as degrading as the man who had stepped out. "Cherie, no men who come to Pierre's are respectable. What is it that you seek?"

"I need some help from a decent man and this was the first place that I came to. I would like to meet someone tonight if that is possible."

The man regarded her strangely as she appeared nervous and her she cast a watchful eye around the open space. She was a beautiful woman who could attract the attention of a worthier man than the heathens here, but with his profession he'd met many unusual characters.

"There is a man playing cards at the table in the corner. His name is Jean. He's kind of a quiet fellow, a widower, but I've never seen him mistreat or solicit a lady, which is more than I can say for just about every other man here!"

"Thank you for your assistance," she smiled and placed a few coins on the bar slab. She approached the table that the bartender had specified where four men were seated with beer and cigars. Some of them whistled as she came to stand at the edge of their cluster and she perked up, knowing that she could entice a man into her skirts by the end of the night.

"Hello gentlemen, may I join your company?" she chattered.

"A fine woman like yourself doesn't need to ask-" a young blonde-haired man said before getting cut off by the older man to his left.

"What do you want with our company and for that matter, what are you doing alone in a place like this?"

"_This must be Jean,"_ she thought as her smile faltered slightly. He had hard eyes and a gruff voice. He was dressed in the typical work attired of the lower class and his age was revealed by the graying hair at his temples.

"I have nowhere to go tonight. I am not a streetwalker but I wandered into this place eager to pass the time, and hopefully in a good way."

Jean still seemed skeptical of Meg's intrusion but the other members of the card game had pulled up an empty chair and one man, who'd introduced himself as Stefan, was happily flirting with her.

"Do you know how to play Manille?" he asked of his pretty new protégé while shuffling the small deck.

She had grown up in the opera house around alcohol, sex and gambling at a young age, so she could probably manage fairly well. Instead she decided to play the naïve female and chose to feign ignorance to the game to garner a little extra attention. As Stefan explained the rules to her, she reached over and absentmindedly took a swig of his beer.

"And she drinks too! Sweetheart, where've you been all my life?" He ordered a pint from the tavern maid when she walked past the table and Meg soon found herself in the middle of the game, despite the fact that she had nothing to bet with.

As the time wore on, the alcohol was beginning to affect her from the absence of food in her stomach. Jean had been casting shadowy glances at her but said little to Meg through the course of the night. At last feeling confident enough to charm her way into Stefan's pants, she asked him to see her to her flat.

"I thought you had nowhere to go," he remarked.

"I have a home, I just wanted some fun tonight," she giggled, slurring her words just a little.

"And did you have some?" he whispered coyly in her ear.

"I want to have more, but only with you."

Stefan nearly fell over himself to take Meg's arm as she said goodbye to the small gathering, but Jean stood, refusing to allow them to depart together.

"I'll walk you home, mademoiselle. I can't guarantee that this boy could ensure you no harm from the dangers in the dark," he warned.

"That's not necessary, I'll be fine," Meg offered, very reluctant to say goodbye to Stefan so soon.

"I insist."

He led her through the back of the tavern and out into the adjoining alleyway bathed in darkness. He still had not released his grip on her and she looked up in alarm.

"What was that about?" she asked, not withholding the anger in her voice.

"What were you doing there tonight?" he questioned, not bothering to acknowledge hers.

"I am tired of the life that I lead. I hate the façade that I have to put on when I really enjoy such a laidback lifestyle. It is much more fun in there than parading around the streets of Paris like a virtuous saint."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, and may I ask why you've been eying me suspiciously throughout the night?"

"Because your behavior is odd for a girl of your beauty and station."

"My station? I am practically an outcast, that is why I seek little clandestine pleasures such as a card game full of men." She was lying and lying well, but she either needed to get him to fuck her or call it a night and go elsewhere tomorrow.

"If only you knew what you were doing to those men," he said as he ran a hand through his wavy brown hair.

"And what was it that I was doing?" she asked pointedly.

"Teasing them, frustrating them. Anytime Stefan looked down to help you with your cards he was really admiring the view of your bosom."

"But I am completely covered!"

Jean chuckled at her modesty. "Mademoiselle, if you forgive me for saying so, it would take a lot more cloth to cover your chest."

She blushed but was flattered as he regarded her finer assets. "When you say frustrating, was it really the others or was it referencing you?"

The lightheartedness was instantly gone from his face and he turned around so his back was to her. Worried that she'd offended him, she walked towards him and placed a tender hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Jean, I didn't mean to upset you."

"No Meg, you're right. You are so beautiful and I can't help but desire you but it's wrong. My wife passed away a few years ago and I've not been with a woman since her. I'm so ashamed but I cannot bring myself to lie with a woman just to gratify myself, and especially not if I have to pay for it."

This took Meg by surprise as she it led her very easily in the direction she wanted to head. "Don't be ashamed," she said simply before she began to kiss the back of his neck tenderly.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a hushed whisper, but she said nothing as she turned him around, kissing him on the lips.

"Meg!" he gasped as her lips met his.

"I like the way that you say my name," she smirked against his mouth. He moaned in response and kissed her back with a strong urgency. He pulled her body closer to his as he wrapped his arms around her back and shoulders, allowing his hands to roam as he explored her mouth with his tongue.

"Can we Jean, please?"

"Can we what?" he gasped. She cupped his swollen crotch and he pushed her against the wall, using his body to pin her in place.

"And the bartender said you were such a gentleman," she teased. "Nice men don't rut with women against brick walls in alleyways." He looked into her eyes with what looked like regret for his actions but she refused to let him feel guilt. "I am enjoying this too much to want you to stop."

Meg began to fumble with the buttons of his trousers as his hands found the breasts he'd so admired earlier and she soon found his member free. She grazed the tip of it with her fingernail and he hissed, finally coming back to himself as he frantically lifted her skirt and pulled her body upwards to meet his. She entwined her legs around his waist and he wasted no time in entering her, keeping one hand against the course wall for leverage and the other on her back for support.

It was awkward and a little sloppy, but hoped that Jean's seed was powerful enough to take root inside of her. Though this coupling with Jean was not unsatisfying, she knew that she could never have as gratifying a partner as Erik. She thought about the way he fit perfectly inside of her and the beautiful sounds he sued to make at the height of passion with his angelic voice. It was then that she noticed the subtle changes as Jean's breaths went from light and shallow to hard and guttural. His body tensed and she could actually feel the rush of liquid as it passed from his body to hers.

They remained conjoined for just a few more moments before Jean withdrew and set her gently to her feet. "I don't know what came over me," he rasped as he rearranged his clothes. "I have never done that. I am sorry."

Meg smiled gently, reassuring her temporary lover that he did nothing wrong. "It wasn't as though I didn't want it either. I am glad after all that Stefan didn't walk me home."

"But I didn't think to use a letter. I want you to know that I am free from disease."

"As am I. It was better this way. I am grateful that I was led to meet you." Jean took her arm once more and escorted her within a block from the opera house. They did not have far to go, but each walked in silence, knowing they would never see each other again.


	17. Chapter 17

_I don't blame you if you want to hit me a lot. This has been written but thanks to some PMs from Hot4Gerry to essentially kick my ass into gear, the process has been thankfully hastened. And then I saw that this was last updated in April and thought, "Are you freakin' kidding me??" See...what happened was, as far as I knew, yesterday was March and then all of a sudden, a new husband and a new house later, it's September! If ever you want time to pass by really really REALLY quickly, plan a wedding._

_I'm not begging for reviews, but I HAVE noticed that Bound, Chimera and Beyond the Facade are taking a lot longer to update than All Consuming...Reviews are inspiration...but only if you want to leave one. ;-)_

* * *

It was much later in the morning when Meg awoke after her long night at the tavern. Her eyes were sore from the smoke that had swirled around the sleazy establishment and she opened them slowly as she simultaneously felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach. 

"_Maybe I should not have had so much beer. It has been some time since I've consumed it."_

She tried to go back to sleep but the nausea became stronger until she leapt from the sheets that had been tangled around her legs, and quickly expelled everything lingering in her belly into the toilet. The smell was horrifying and she immediately flushed the brown slop before she retched again. Realizing that Erik would soon need to eat, she wearily hoisted herself from the bathroom floor and proceeded to the kitchen where she poured a glass of water and sliced some bread. She placed them on a tray, not even bothering to put on a robe, and stumbled down the halls as her body ached and the muscles in her abdomen clenched uncomfortably. The musty scent of moss seemed more prevalent this morning that it had for the previous weeks, and Meg found herself breathing through her mouth so that she did not trigger another wave of sickness.

Despite the short journey from the shore of Erik's lakeside home to the Communard dungeons, it seemed to take much longer this morning for Meg and was once again tired as she fumbled with the keys to the lock. Erik watched her curiously through the hard metal bars of his solitary corner but said nothing until she at last entered and approached.

"I see that we left behind our coordination today," he joked. "Is this why it has taken so long for me to be fed?"

"I'm not feeling well," she grumbled.

"Not enough sleep?"

"I was sick to my stomach."

Though he did not betray his thoughts with his facial expressions, internally Erik was alarmed to hear that Meg had been ill. Morning sickness was a telltale sign of pregnancy, and he had seen more than most any other men with the amount of unwise harlots that worked for the opera, but perhaps he could be lucky in that she had only caught a virus.

"How long have you been sick?" he asked slowly.

"Only this morning. I'm sure it is because of last night," she said casually.

"_Well if she is not obsessing over a possible pregnancy then I should not worry either,"_ Erik reasoned to himself, though the feeling of apprehension still lingered.

"And what were you doing last night to cause you to become sick?"

"None of your business!" she shouted, throwing the place of food on the ground at his feet.

"Meg, are you alright? I know that you're ill but you're acting strangely. More strangely than normal, I should say." He meant the last part in good humor, though her sour face did not brighten in the least.

"I'm fine." In truth, she felt awful, both physically and emotionally. She'd come home last night, content after her encounter with Jean, but she felt guilty for betraying Erik. They did not have a normal sort of relationship by anyone's standards, but she knew in her heart that they were kindred souls, and she was defiant against any obstacle. She couldn't tell Erik in the event that Jean had gotten her with child so then she could pass the baby off as Erik's. She just hoped that she was so she'd keep him by her side with the knowledge that she carried his offspring, and that she never had to betray him in such a manner again.

"You were gone for a long time. It's been many hours since I last saw you. I hope you didn't get into any trouble."

"No, it was just a quiet night. I went above ground for awhile to a few shops and a café."

"Then why are you alluding to being ill from last night as though you'd been drinking?"

"I had a little wine at the café but I have not consumed it in a while, combined with the fact that I didn't eat much. It will wear off later in the day."

Erik narrowed his eyes, knowing that she was lying about something but chose instead to say nothing more.

Meg hung around for a few minutes seemingly reluctant to leave, but lacking any sufficient reason to stay. At last she asked, "Is there anything that you need? Can I provide you with anything?"

He looked up to see her chewing her lip and avoiding eye contact. _"She looks like she feels guilty about something, most likely pertaining to her activities last night. What is she hiding?" _he thought.

"Freedom would be nice; I've been without it for so long."

Meg actually gave a weak smile at his attempt at a joke. She rose from her position on the floor to move closer to Erik and seat herself at his left side, taking his dirty and scraped palm in her smooth, delicate hand. She kissed it then, the guilt of the night's previous sin overwhelming, and her mouth was hot against his cold flesh.

"Erik, I'm sorry," she rasped as she raised herself to her knees and kissed his neck. "I'm sorry for everything! I'm selfish and I want you, I want _only_ you. I didn't know what I was doing but it was you, _only_ you." Her cries were fervent as her hands traced the contrasting sides of his face until her wild statements were stifled against his lips. She straddled his lap, but there was no response at all from him as he sat there, neither accepting nor rejecting Meg's advancements.

Erik didn't understand her desperate apologies but could only assume that they were a result of the guilt she felt over his captivity. His body did not respond at all to her spontaneous embrace and he knew that she would simply find a way to take him, willingly or no, if she so chose. She kissed the cheeks and jaw line on each side of his face, though she was met only with a cool indifference. She switched tactics so that she was now attempting to garner a reaction from his male organ, but even that remained flaccid and un-aroused.

"Why do you not want me?" she whined. "I want you! I've missed you and would think you've missed the sex too."

"You truly are a selfish child, getting upset because you can't have what you want. I don't care what you do to me anymore. You've taken me before so why should I protest now? Forgive me if my body is not stimulated by the surroundings in which I dwell. Why do you even wish to lie with me after what happened last time?"

"I love you. I want to feel you and have your child-"

"If you had my child, would you even be prepared for it? Who would deliver it? How would you care for it? What if the child looked like_ me_? You say you'd love it but you do not understand what you ask."

"I would because I love-"

"I don't want you to have my child!" he roared. "You play these games and you run hot and cold. Rape me if you will, force me to impregnate you but _don't _ask me to welcome your touch or any offspring that may result!"

Meg slapped him hard enough that his vision was temporarily blurred, but he didn't need to see to know that he'd hurt her with the words she most dreaded hearing. Something had happened to make her feel so ashamed, but Erik doubted he'd ever know what that was.

The pain of his words caused Meg's stomach to churn violently and what little remained was heaved up and slopped onto the floor. Erik had never been able to withstand the disgustingly acrid scent of bile and acid, and had to press the dirty, tattered sleeve of his shirt to his nose and mouth to prevent sickness of his own.

She looked frail and uncomfortable curled up on the floor as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, the only movement that she made for many minutes. Erik was horrified at the site of the fragile young woman that lay before him, suddenly feeling very worried about the state of her health. For the most part, he was concerned that should her condition deteriorate, she could die and then his own death would be slow and torturous without her care. Though deep down, he knew that he cared about her beyond his grim attachment for her care.

"_I have to remind myself that I am a dead man if I don't bring her to the surface, and I don't know if I could successfully vacate the city. If I can escape, I will do whatever I can to bring her with me, but I can't allow myself to remain here for her sake. I just want to do what's right and bring Meg back to her mother." _He was confused about what to do next, but ultimately his main focus had to be that of escape, and for that to take place, Meg couldn't die with him chained to the wall in the dungeon.

"Meg! Meg, please wake up!" Her head was now lying on the cold floor and she was groaning softly. Her skin was pale and was waxy in appearance from Erik's distance a few feet away. "Meg, you're not well. Please get up. I'll help you if you free me, I'll stay with you."

"No," she managed to croak. "I just need to get back to bed. Maybe I have caught a virus."

"You can't care for yourself and me. I can help you and I swear I won't leave. I'm sorry that my outburst has affected you in such a way."

"No, you clearly don't care for me. I can't let you leave. I'll be fine on my own." She was a little dizzy as she stood but she now appeared well enough to walk out of the cell. "I'll return in a few minutes to clean up the mess I've made; I know how particular you are about your home." Even in sickness she could still retain her cocky pride and cast a triumphant smirk his way.

When she left, there was nothing for Erik to do but dwell in his anger and resentment. _"She longs for me and claims that she loves me, yet she does nothing but revel in the fact that she has the advantage over me. As much as she has done for me, I have nothing but hate for Antoinette right now for the position that she has placed me in."_ He hung his head between his knees as his arms draped in front of his face. Tears began to slide down his cheeks at the hopelessness he felt, especially since Meg's health was now in jeopardy.

"_What happens if she becomes sicker and dies? Would she ever be willing to let me go, even to assist her? There will be no chance of escape if she doesn't acquiesce."_

With nothing else to do, he simply laid his head back and stared at the ceiling, awaiting Meg's return. After a while, his eyes burned from the tears and the unblinking stare and he closed them, falling into an uneasy sleep.

Her stomach felt a little better after Meg embarrassingly ejected the small amount of food she'd eaten across the cement slab of Erik's prison. But the limitless ache she felt in her heart remained as Erik's cruel words were replayed in her head. She hadn't come to his cell with the intention of seducing him and she regretted the shameful attempt to try and manipulate his body into satisfying her desires.

"_I must appear to him as nothing more than a lustful harlot seeking only to bed him. I want his child but if my rendezvous with Jean was successful then the identity of the child's paternity need not be known. But oh, to have him love me as he once loved Christine!"_ Meg's sorrowful longings quickly turned to spite at the mere thought of that wicked little diva's treachery. _"It all goes back to her! Erik is incapable of opening his heart to me because of her betrayal. I have always known this and sought to demonstrate that I am vastly different from that Swedish little bitch, but the love that I have for Erik and that he must secretly have for me will always remain repressed because of her childishness and his inability to love again."_

Meg's anger got the better of her as the room began to spin, so she lay down upon the coolness of the duvet to regain control of herself. Her thoughts turned to daydreams of what it would be like to have Erik on the other side of the bed, facing her as they both admired their child laying serenely between them. She could picture the love that poured from his soft blue eyes as he glanced down at his baby, then up to his beautiful wife.

She smiled at the hope that one day this might become reality and rising up gently from the bed, she grabbed a bucket of water and a small basket of supplies to bring to Erik.

He was asleep when she got there, not even stirring with the clank of the keys or the shifting of the large metal gate as she entered. She first set to work cleaning up the vomit from her distress and then replenished the necessary items that were getting low. She'd also thought this time to bring him a change of clothes that he had requested so long ago, but knew it would be very unwise to attempt to undress him while he remained unconscious and vulnerable.

"_What could possibly be going through your head right now?" _she softly murmured._ "Are you thinking of Allison instead of me?"_

She'd never learned who this Allison woman was, as Erik had refused to open up about the two years since the opera house fire. In fact, he had gone to great lengths to speak about anything but his disdain for her. Meg couldn't convince herself that Erik had truly gotten over Christine because his love for her had seemingly been so strong, and though she loved him, she could never allow herself to forgive him completely.

"_He destroyed the opera house, a grand palace in which he himself had assisted in the construction, all in his quest to win her heart. How could he give that up in only two years?"_

She looked upon him mournfully, saddened that she could not provoke the same romantic feelings. She brushed his forehead with her fingertips, noting that the skin was cool. She took the discarded blanket at his side and draped it across his slouched form before slowly exiting from the room.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews!_ _I think things are really going to start picking up now._

* * *

Another four weeks had passed, and Meg still had not overcome her illness. She had thrown up a few times since the morning after her escapade at the tavern, despite having forgone any form of spirits, but in general her nausea was limited to just an ache in her belly. Her body was tired all the time and she kept her visits to Erik at a minimal two times per day. 

Erik observed the turn in her behavior but was met with a grunt in response. _"I am tired. Living underground has left me with no energy. The sun does not shine down here and time slows to a crawl."_

"How much time has elapsed since I was first brought here?" he asked Meg evenly.

"You have been in this cell for seven weeks and nearly twelve weeks have passed since you came back to the opera house."

"_I have been missing for three months?"_ Erik despaired silently. _"Three months of my life have been wasted in this horrid confinement with this deranged woman. If Christine had stayed with me instead of choosing the Vicomte, I would not have kept her prisoner like this, she would've had mobility."_

His thoughts then turned to Antoinette's puzzling behavior, or lack thereof. _"Why has she not instructed the police to search for me? Why have they not been down here in all this time?"_

Meg's voice broke through Erik's thoughtful interlude and he looked at her with a startled expression. "I am going to lie down, I can't seem to get enough sleep," she said wearily.

With an increasing amount of dread, Erik began to realize more and more each day that with the handful of times they had been intimate, Meg had indeed conceived. It was beyond Erik's understanding, however, as to why she ignored the telltale symptoms of fatigue and nausea.

"Meg, are you sure that you are feeling so poorly from your environment? Could it be something else?"

She contemplated his words briefly before responding. "I must have caught a virus. It could be anything since we are not far from the sewers."

"Has your body changed at all? Any difference in weight or appetite?" He couldn't possibly believe that her other had kept her so sheltered from the other dancers that became with child from their wealthy lovers, and that Meg did not know of the primary symptoms. He was too embarrassed and far too much a gentleman to inquire about her monthly bleedings.

"No, I've been desiring a change of diet from the bread and dried fruit that I usually eat, but that's because I've been eating that small variety of food since before you arrived."

"_I would've thought she'd be delighted at any prospect that she was pregnant. There must be something she is not telling me." _Erik chose to keep quiet for the moment and try to determine any other diagnosis as more time progressed. If she was carry a child, it would only be the second month and they would need a doctor's exam to be sure at this stage.

"Have you been to a doctor?"

"No!" she gasped. "If I went, the doctor would learn my identity and notify my mother. I cannot risk that!"

Erik sighed, knowing he wouldn't have gotten very far with her typical display of childishness. "Have you been with anyone since we were last…together?"

"Are you accusing me of being unfaithful?" she scowled incredulously.

"No! I am asking if you might have caught a disease! I can assure you that I transmitted nothing to you if a disease is indeed what ails you."

Meg turned around so that her back was towards him and remained silent. _"I can't tell him, it would ruin everything."_

"Meg, please consult a doctor. I am worried about you. He would not contact your mother if you used an alias. Even if he did inquire about your family, you could say that you are not from Paris."

She was touched that Erik was so concerned for her well-being, never mind that fact that he was solely dependent on her.

"How are you doing?" she asked awkwardly, fully aware that his clothing was in tatters, he had not properly bathed in weeks and he could only move within the three foot radius that the chains would permit. It was a ridiculous question, but she at least wanted him to know that she still cared.

She could see that he was surprised but also viewed it as an insult as his eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. "I was serious when I had inquired as to your state of health," he stated coldly. "I do not need to be mocked for my few tender moments of compassion."

"I'm sorry, that was foolish-"

"Indeed it was. I am tired, very cold and very sore. Dare I inquire as to when you will release me from my bonds?"

"I-I cannot answer that," she replied meekly.

"Then leave me! You are supposedly so weary from your mystery ailment, go rest up and perhaps you will feel better!"

Meg said nothing to his authoritative quip, thinking to herself, _"Only _he _would be the captive and bark orders like he was the king!"_ She found herself wondering how he could tolerate his conditions and was amazed at the respect she had for him and his ability to still maintain his dignity. Even amidst his dire living conditions, he was nowhere near the tyrant he'd been when he was the Phantom. Had Christine really fueled that much passion in him?

She had left his cell upon his request and had made her way sluggishly back to the bedroom. She had brought food for him but ate nothing herself and figured the absence of nutrition was causing her body to react with less energy. But as she thought of the food in the kitchen, her stomach turned sour and she heaved over the side of the bed. Her belly twisted fiercely and her forehead was coated in sweat, but she did not feel feverish.

"_I think Erik is right, I should go to the doctor. Could my encounter with the stranger really have resulted in me getting with child? If I am, is the baby the result of that one night, or have my prayers been answered about Erik siring my child?" _She had not bled since that day where she had cried so hard after finding small spots in her undergarments, though she had attributed the absence of her monthly as a condition of her flu-like illness.

Though trying to remain cautious about what the future held for her, Meg could not help but be bother happy and impatient to visit a doctor to find out for certain. The question was who could she see? Dr. Peroux had been the attending physician at the opera house, but she could not successfully attempt to use a disguise with him, nor would he abide by her desire for secrecy from her mother. No, she had to find a new doctor who would not know of her familial relations and who was readily accessible. Could she just walk up to a practice on the street? She glanced down at her stomach, hoping she was not putting all of her hopes on something that could just be an infection. She would just to have go.

* * *

The following day Meg ventured above ground in her disguise and hired a cab to take her to the hospital. She managed to locate the name of a doctor with a private practice and then took a ride to his home. As she exited the hansom, she admired the tidy looking row house and ascended the wide stone steps to the door.

"Dr. Julien Feuilly?" Meg asked when a young maid answered the door.

"You are in luck today, mam'selle, he at home this morning. Step into the parlor and I will see if he is able to greet you." The petite young house worker then scurried away to leave Meg alone in the formal sitting room.

She sat still for a few moments before wandering about the small room. There was a bookcase filled with little-used medical texts and picture frames adorned the mantle with images of stone-faced strangers. Tucked away in a corner there was a small wooden piano that had seen better days and it reminded Meg instantly of Erik.

"He must really miss playing," she muttered sadly and nearly screamed when she heard the creak of the stairs behind her.

"Do you admire my piano?" asked the formally-dressed man coming to greet her. He was younger than Meg had expected, though his temples were starting to gray with age. He was handsome, yet Meg did not fail to notice that he wore no wedding ring.

"Yes, I-I'm sorry. I did not mean to disturb your belongings."

"I would hardly say it's been disturbed," he offered, though he did not smile. "Now what brings you here?"

Meg became a little scared at his tone. She did not know what to expect of the visit but he was not very welcoming. _"Did the hospital refer me to wrong doctor?"_

"I fear that I am ill. I may be with child," she said, refusing to meet his eyes and backing up to the window ledge.

"You do not need to be afraid of me, but I cannot examine you in front of the street. Please come upstairs."

His tone was still less than friendly but he headed back up the stairs with Meg in tow. She followed him to a bedroom that had been converted to an examining room, and he instructed her to lie down. Meg glanced around the room as the doctor washed his wands and prepared the instruments. The walls were painted a neutral pastel green and hand-painted daisies adorned the wall below the moulding.

"This is a peaceful room," she remarked casually.

"It was to be my child's room," he answered in a somber monotone. "My wife died during the delivery, as did the baby."

"I'm terribly sorry!" Meg gasped, horrified that she had inadvertently provoked such a tragic memory."

"I miss my wife, but life does continue," he said as he turned back to face her with a long metal tool in his hand. "Sadly, it is not an irregular occurrence for women to hemorrhage or for infection to set in." He pressed a hand on her abdomen before continuing. "I used to work for a bank but I regretted feeling so helpless as Louise and our son lay dying in the next room, so I became a doctor."

The examination did not last long, but Meg was relieved when it was over. Dr. Feuilly gave the barest hint of a smile before confirming that was indeed with child. "Congratulations," he said and helped her off the bed, amused at the wonderment that encased her pretty face.

"How far along?" she whispered.

"You act as though you are surprised, yet you came in here and voiced what you thought was the cause of your symptoms. You are nearly eight weeks. I assume you have been taking good care of yourself in the meantime?"

"Yes," she lied. "I eat a lot and get lots of rest."

"Please remember that you eat for two now and also please come see me if you begin to bleed or have unusual cramping. Do you have anyone living nearby that has assisted with birthing a child?"

"I am in residence with someone that has extensive medical knowledge." Dr. Feuilly regarded her strangely before reiterating that she should come see him if she felt great pains.

He led Meg down the stairs and held the door as she exited his home. She did not hail a cab immediately, but instead meandered down the street as a myriad of thoughts played through her head.

"_A baby? A baby! God has smiled upon my prayers and truly sought it fit that Erik and I should unite as lovers and as parents. It truly is destined to be for us!"_

"But how do I tell him?"


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Just to clear something up, Erik is the father of Meg's child. I'm sorry, I must not have written the last chapter clearly enough_.

* * *

Meg was still overwhelmed by the time that she made it back to the opera house, though now exhaustion was plaguing her as well. She removed the panel that allowed her access and meandered down the hallways, almost as though she were drunk. The trip to ground level had been very refreshing and she felt dizzy with the onslaught of damp, musty air as she trailed her hand across the slimy masonry walls. As she descended deeper and walked past the guard's hallway that would lead to the Communard dungeon, she paused, reflecting once again about Erik's eventual reaction. Her hand came down to her stomach as she reveled in the tiny miracle that lay nestled and developing within.

"_What do I say to Erik? He doesn't want this baby, but it is has already made me so happy. How could someone not love their own child?"_ She was reminded then of how her mother had found Erik as a little boy, abandoned and mistreated in the Gypsy caravan. Her mother had even seemed to favor showering Christine with attention instead of her own flesh and blood. _"I guess it's not so hard to imagine after all. But this child will have at least one parent who would devote their life to it. I won't tell Erik, he can figure it out on his own in due time as I get bigger and can't hide it."_

She resumed her steady pace and soon reached the lake with boat rocking gently against the shore. She climbed in as it wobbled a little under her weight and taking the large pole, pushed herself to the other side where Erik's small home was perched. When she arrived, she treaded up the few stairs to the bedroom that she had claimed from Erik has her own and kicking off her shoes, she rubbed her feet. Glancing at the clock she realized that it was only half past one in the afternoon and she'd need to deliver Erik's mid-day meal soon. She groaned audibly as she reluctantly stood from the plush blankets and put together a meal of beef broth and bread for her imprisoned lover.

Erik couldn't seem to get comfortable even now in his conscious hours and felt tired and sore from a poor night's sleep. He pounded his fist against the wall in frustration that he had been here so long and had made little progress with Meg. Spring would now be in full bloom as Pierre's farm would start to flourish and Julia would've had the baby by now.

"_I told Pierre I could never hope to be a father and now I am hoping that I am not. What is she going to do with it while I sit here and rot? Would I ever been able to meet my offspring?"_

He laid his head back against the roughly surfaced wall and closed his eyes, wishing that he could open them and find himself in his small cottage.

A few moments later he heard the squeaking door open and light footsteps as Meg approached his cell. She looked nervous as she carried a tray of soup and stale bread. She set it down as she fumbled with the keys, even dropping them once which was uncharacteristic for the normally graceful ballerina.

"Gourmet cuisine, I see," he muttered as he let his eyes trail over the unappealing mess that he was to eat.

"Shut up, I'm tired and this was all I could muster," she snapped. He glanced up at her to find her pouting with her hands on her hips and an angry scowl plastered over her lovely face. He did admit to himself that she looked tired, but the pale green dress that she wore suited her and he smiled.

"Do sit down and rest," he jested.

"No, I want to take a nap."

"Have you seen a doctor?" he asked casually as he grabbed the bread and bit down. He nearly cracked a tooth and dipped it in the broth to soften it. He looked up to her again when she did not answer and his smirk disappeared as she visibly hesitated.

"Yes," she replied at last.

"And what did he say?"

"To rest and eat better."

"Is that all?"

"Yes!"

"He didn't explain why you're feeling so ill?"

"He said it was my environment!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot. "And your insolence is not helping any."

"Ahh, and what did he say when you said that you were keeping the Phantom of the Opera as your prisoner and lover? Did he say that that was a contributing factor to your poor health?"

"You're an ass."

"I'm sure he had more to say than you are telling me."

"Well what do you care?" she screeched. "You don't care about me! I could die and it would make no difference to you!"

"Of course it would. You probably wouldn't die conveniently within reach of me and I'd starve to death as I lay here freezing and breathing in the scent of your fetid corpse. It would be very difficult for me if you suddenly expired."

"There you go, I'm just _convenient_, is that it?"

Erik hated to depend on anyone for anything, though in this case he had to voice the truth before Meg lost her head again. "No, you are more than just a convenience. I depend on you for food, water and companionship."

"Companionship? You weren't much of a companion when you strangled me," she scoffed.

"I am not getting into this argument again!" he yelled, getting to his feet in a defensive crouch. "You are withholding something from me."

"No I'm not!"

"Are you with child?" he bellowed. Their faces both echoed their shock, Erik at having mistakenly revealed it and Meg's astonishment that he knew.

"_I've fought so hard for this baby, he cannot know that I carry it. We need to build our relationship back and we need to do it soon before I start to show a large stomach. No, I must lie in the meantime."_

"What kind of question is that?" she asked with disdain.

"A legitimate one."

"No I am not."

Erik wasn't entirely convinced, though he didn't know why she would hide it. _"For something she'd wanted so badly, I'd think she'd brag endlessly to me about carrying my child. Perhaps she really isn't pregnant."_

"Are you certain?" he questioned.

"Yes, the doctor confirmed that much. I begged him that I was but my monthlies have been regular." It was moments like these in which Meg was grateful to have been raised around snide, gossipy girls that had a habit of lying.

"If you unchain me I could examine you myself-"

"You already did enough in examining me, and besides, do you think you know the body, particularly that of a _female_, better than a physician?" Meg laughed incredulously.

"Yes I do," he challenged.

A look of hatred silenced her mocking and she sauntered from her spot across the small room to where Erik was still crouched in the corner, lowering herself to meet his gaze directly. "You will never touch me again," she seethed and spat in his face. An eerie, almost evil glow emanated from her eyes, a look that Erik had not seen in nearly 20 years since his days in Persia. "I am your ticket to salvation, Erik. One day it will be a choice of me or death."

The disturbingly volatile side of Meg had re-emerged and he knew he'd need to do something to get her back in the right state of mind. _"How do I calm this girl down? How do I get her to trust me again?"_

He stretched his dirty hand out to her and was surprised when she let him take it, despite her angry outburst. "Meg, I'm sorry," he pleaded. "You've just been acting so strangely of late, I thought perhaps with pregnancy hormones..."

"Well clearly that's not the issue," she stated coldly. She rose to her feet and crossed the room to pass through the door.

"Do you still want to have my baby?" he asked timidly.

"What?" she asked, clanking the bars with the tray.

"I-I could try getting you with child again," he said sheepishly and he could feel a bright red glow illuminate his face. "I've run out of options. I won't do anything to harm you, I swear to that, but release me from these confines and we could live together as before, though preferably without the chains. I'll look after you and any children that may come along."

Meg said nothing as she closed the cell door behind her and shut Erik in the darkness.

"_He doesn't want me, he wants a method of escape," _she later reasoned. _"'_I've run out of options.'_ He'll abandon me the minute he knows of the baby."_ Yet Meg was still so desperate for affection that she was actually considering his proposal. She began to cry, tired from all that had taken place within the last few months and unable to come to a decision regarding Erik and his fate with her.

"I love him but I just can't trust him!" she sobbed aloud. "But I want to be with him and who is to say that he has changed since his confinement?" The bedroom where she had come to lay down mocked her with the long lingering scent of him and she had to restrain herself from ripping the place to shreds. It was dark and sensual, a personification of Erik himself, reflected in the masculine style of the room.

She stood from the bed and took a few steps toward the door before stopping herself. "No, he'd say anything to get out so that he could finish me off this time," she rationalized. "I must protect myself and my baby from his wicked actions. I will release him when I feel the time is right." And still she could not shake the temptation to have him by her side.

After Meg had left, Erik picked up the ink and parchment and began to write down his thoughts.

"_It has been a few days and time just runs into each other. Will these musings be as important to me when I get out of here? They are what keep me sane." _His fingers left filthy smudges of ink and dirt as he scrawled across the papers. He'd stuffed all the other ones in the cracks in the walls where they'd become torn and damp, and yet like the angelic sketch of Meg, they were his most cherished possessions down in here.

"_What has become of the little Meg that I once knew? The little charmer who strove to be the best dancer and the most popular amongst the ballet rats with her stories of the Phantom. There are times when she seems so sure of what she is doing that I wonder if she is really crazy or if she is purely evil. I don't recall Anne being as neglectful of her daughter as Meg lets on, perhaps she is blowing it out of proportion. And yet, what kind of woman holds her love captive in order to have his baby?"_

Erik failed to take into account that he had done something similar with Christine, even threatening the life of her true beloved. _"I thought I had suffered enough for my crimes and when I live a life of peace, I am unwittingly hauled back here to once again repent for my sins._

_A child, Meg is, and yet she may also be carrying mine, the demon bastard offspring of a mentally unstable and once promising star and a deformed recluse who terrorized the greatest opera house in the entire world. If Anne could see her now and see how much more awful things have become, she never would have dispatched me to locate her daughter."_


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: If anyone wants to buy me a new computer and/or get me a new job, I will update every single day if they want me to. Enough said. In the meantime, enjoy!  
_

* * *

As the weeks passed, Erik had fallen to a state where he was but a shell of himself. Meg's sickness did not clear up and instead she came to him only once or twice a day. She would bring larger portions of food to sustain him when she could not come, but the long periods of solitude were causing Erik's hopes of freedom to wane severely. They barely spoke to each other even when she did make her appearance, and Erik had resorted to talking aloud in her absence to keep from losing his voice altogether. 

He still carried the shame with him for offering to give his body in exchange for freedom, but she never spoke of it, nor did she attempt to take him up on his offer. He kept his eyes open to see if her stomach would swell, but at the stage where she would be five months along, her body seemed to have changed very little.

"_She is not pregnant and she does not seem to want to conceive anymore. Has something changed within her mind? Was I relying too heavily upon her dreams of a baby? Has my pride been the obstacle to my salvation?"_

After being nestled in the same place for so long, he doubted that his legs would even function normally anymore, and he spent most of his conscious hours staring into the dismal grayness of the stones that enshrouded him.

For long stretches of time he would lose himself to visions of a better life with him and Allison. They were living comfortably on a real estate in the country with woods and a little brook that bubbled in the spring time. He knew that she had enjoyed painting china tea sets and reading novels of medieval heroines, and in his fantasy he spared nothing to make her as happy as possible. At night their love for each other brought them together as they made love underneath a ceiling canopy that was painted to look like a thousand stars.

He was safe in his dreams, but any other time when he was fully cognizant of his surroundings, Erik was terrified at the prospect of being intimate with a woman, should he ever get to see true daylight again. His wrist had healed from the break it had sustained months before, but the stitches and scars he'd received while chained to his bed were still plainly visible. Those scars were the reminder of what had viciously taken place between Meg and himself and that would act would forever be confused in his mind with true physical intimacy with a woman. He doubted that he would ever even want to lay with a woman again.

* * *

Meg's body ached tremendously and she found it increasingly difficult to get out of bed each morning as she covered herself in the warmth of the blanket. It was just over three months since her doctor's visit, and though her stomach was starting to blossom in the middle of her second trimester, the hardships of carrying a child were beginning to take its toll on her slender body. The vomiting had ceased a little bit, but the addition to her already ample bosom was such that she could only spend a few hours each day out of bed before she developed a fierce ache in her back.

What made Meg truly appreciate her condition, however, was what had taken place a few weeks earlier when she began to feel flutters in her stomach.

"_My baby really is alive and growing," _she thought proudly. She would catch herself absentmindedly caressing the small mound above her waistline and wonder how Erik would react when he undoubtedly discovered the truth behind the heavy secret that she'd withheld for so long. She hadn't needed Jean after all!

"_He expressed his lack of desire to have a child, but deep down would he be happy to actually have one? He could be a great father."_

But whenever she thought of telling him, or even potentially releasing him, the deep-rooted fear of jeopardizing the lives of both mother and child made her postpone informing him of the inevitable.

With her expanding figure, she still successfully hid her body beneath the many layers and Erik was none the wiser. As her weight increased, she found that she came to see her captive less and less. To accommodate only a single visit each day, she made larger and much simpler meals, staying only longer periods of time to assist him in his bodily cleansing. He barely spoke anymore as he finally seemed resigned to end his days rotting in a prison cell. The few times that he did initiate a dialogue was geared in the direction of when he might be released, to which Meg would refuse him a response.

He no longer argued, he never issued false promises of his loyalty, succumbing at last to silence and misery. Meg hated that she had reduced the once proud and powerful overseer of the entire opera house to this state, but she knew that it was for the best.

"_When the time comes for the baby to be born, I will tell him then that I am pregnant. It will be at that time that he is so enamored with our child and our love with rebound."_

* * *

But as her sixth and seventh months passed, she developed serious pain in her back, spending even more time in bed. She tried to turn her pain into a sense of sacrifice for her baby, but even as she caressed her stomach, the tears in her eyes were not of joy. 

Erik's freedom was premature when Meg's body had finally given up from weakness. She had woken up in severe pain and sought him out in the hopes that he may have a remedy to ease her suffering.

"Please wake up!" she wailed as she fumbled for the heavy brass keys. His eyes shot open in alarm to see her clutch her abdomen.

"What is wrong?" he exclaimed as she desperately unlocked his manacles. He rubbed his wrists and attempted to stand, but his muscles refused to obey and he collapsed to the floor.

"I'm in agony!" she cried. "You have to help me!"

"I can't help myself at the moment," he snarled. "I cannot stand and I doubt I can even walk, no thanks to you!" The muscles had atrophied in his upper thighs and his backside was hurting from the sores and wasting away of fatty tissue.

"I fear I may die!"

"So dramatic," he grumbled to himself. "Call a doctor then! I need a few minutes."

She waited as he slowly stood and took a few careful steps before leaning against the wall for support. It took them awhile to get back to Erik's home as both were in serious pain and their journey was slow, but when at last they arrived, he ordered her on the bed.

"What are your symptoms?" he asked hurriedly as he grabbed a heavy medical volume.

"Shooting pains in my stomach and my back is sore."

"For how long?"

"Only a few hours?"

"Let me see your belly. I need to check for bruising."

Thinking she may have a virus or infection, he tore at her clothes until he reached the skin and recoiled from what he saw. "My God, what is this?"

"I've wanted to tell you-"

"God dammit, are you_with child_?"

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed wildly, clutching the discarded shirt in her frail hands. "I couldn't-"

"Is it _mine_?"

Her sobs became more incoherent and he barely heard her utter a pathetic, "yes."

"How far along?"

"Seven months. Erik, please-"

"Why did you hide this from me?" he raged. He paced back and forth, finally approaching her with his hand raised. "You horrid creature! What have you done? Why did you seduce me, why did you _trick_ me? How could you-"

"Because I love this baby and I love you!" she moaned and fell back, once again falling into a fit of hysterics.

"A baby," he muttered. "All this pain and for my baby." He knew he needed to take action or they would both be lost, whether it be through the failure of Meg's body or his own blind fury. He snapped himself back to reality and quickly skimming the medical text, he began to push around on Meg's swollen stomach. She shrieked and jerked around from the pain, but he knew that he had nothing to give her.

"Meg, I need you to be strong. I have nothing for you, I don't have anything that will relieve the pain. If you had told me sooner, I could've gotten you some laudanum for the delivery, but as it stands I just need you to be patient, alright?" She nodded weakly. "I don't know if this is your time. It could be false labor, which I pray it is. Have you been seeing a doctor regularly?"

"No, I have not been since my second month."

"Do you think you can walk?"

"No. Please don't leave me, Erik."

"I won't. Have you seen your mother?" He had to dodge the limp swat she took at him. "Have you seen _anyone_ about this?"

"No, damn you!"

"I will make you some tea. Perhaps something with peppermint will calm your stomach and relax your muscles. If you have not broken your water, there is no need to deliver the baby yet."

As he left to prepare Meg's tea, the reality began to hit him. He was free. He could leave Meg and the baby and just abandon them as he had planned to do from the beginning. He could find Anne and let her know that Meg was down here, that she had seduced him and forced him into imprisonment. But what if Anne thought he'd raped her? Or worse, what if something bad happened to Meg while she was down here? She would soon risk her life to bear him a child, a risk he could not even appreciate! He listened to Meg's groans as she lay helpless on the bed, writhing back and forth in pain, and sank to the floor.

"_How could this happen? What if this really is Meg's time? I have never delivered a baby! If this baby does not come soon, we will go above ground and locate a doctor to assist us. I cannot do this alone."_

The tea was soon ready and as he carried it into the room, he noticed Meg's fit had stopped and she lay still, her face still red and blotchy from the tears, her arm draped across her bare abdomen. He almost dropped the tray as he raced to her to make sure she had not stopped breathing, but his heart began beating again when he saw her draw a breath. He set the tray down beside her and gently lay down on the bed, his arm encircled protectively around her.

"_I will never understand her, as long as I live. She threatens in her own sanity in a quest to have my heart, locks me up in a dungeon and is still happy to be having my child. She must be crazy to want to have a baby with_me_. Such a miracle is life and such mystery is a woman's heart"_

He touched a cold hand to her stomach and felt the movement underneath as the child began to settle down, presumably to join their mother in slumber. He kept it there as it slowly warmed against her stretched and rosy skin, looking into her soft pale face and whispering tenderly, "Oh Meg, what have you gone and done? Was this for me?" He reached down and pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed, draping it across them both before falling into the first peaceful sleep that he had in months.


	21. Chapter 21

_I was happy to wake up this morning after my husband went into work and I find that for the first time in, well probably years really, I was in the mood to write! So at 8:30 on a Saturday morning I threw on my robe, booted up the computer and logged in to my account to see that my last update was in FEBRUARY! All I can say is that work has been hectic (laid off half my department so now it's only two people providing toll free service for a company of 3,000 people) and the fact that my computer officially died sometime at the end of the summer when by brother in law tried to fix it. Looks like I half to save up for the laptop now!_

* * *

Meg felt a light shifting beside her and reluctantly opened her eyes to find that Erik had fallen asleep beside her. Her foggy conscious also noted that the pain in her stomach had subsided, and aside from some lingering cramping in her back, she felt fine. She needed to get up but hesitated before getting up to savor the heavenly feeling that she was experiencing now.

With the revelation of her pregnancy known now to Erik, it felt as though a tremendous burden had been lifted from her. Meg stole another glance at Erik as she rose from the mattress and smiled at how comfortable he looked as he snuggled within a real bed for the first time in months. Whenever she would see him sleeping in his cell, he would be curled into himself and the visible portion of his face reflected pain and betrayal. Now his features were soft and color appeared to be returning to his face as he no longer resided in his damp dungeon.

She crept softly to the bathroom and chose the opportunity while her familiar housemate was still asleep to quickly wash herself. When she emerged a short while later, she saw that he had since gotten up and instantly became worried.

"_Has he left for good?"_ she though in a panic. There was no indication that he had fled in a hurry, but still Meg felt a sense of apprehension. She stood still and looked furtively around the room, checking to see if Erik was poised and ready to attack. After assessing that he was not there, she took a few more steps into the bedroom and then heard the sound drifting from the main part of his lair. Meg slid some shoes onto her bare feet and followed the breathtaking melody to where Erik was once again seated at his organ after what must have felt like a lifetime of silence for him. It had been years since he played it, since before the premiere of Don Juan.

Erik's fingers were sore and he cursed himself for missing so many notes, but it eased his soul to be back here again. His slumber had been gently disturbed when Meg had arisen and after the door to the lavatory had closed, he quickly got up and changed his clothes for the first time since being freed from the Communard prison. In the meantime, he had taken advantage of his freedom from the shackles by wandering through the rooms of his little house.

The main part was here, where his library and organ were, and Christine's beautiful bed was still positioned on the shore. _"I never could create a room big enough down here to accommodate it,"_ he mused to himself. His bedroom, the kitchen and another unfinished room were up a set of stairs chiseled in the rock and through a short narrow hallway that was illuminated by just a few candle sconces. He'd trailed his fingers along the wall, remembering long forgotten memories of breaking up the wall in his youth to carve out the niche of each room. "So long ago," he muttered. "It feels like a lifetime ago."

He entered the grand space and immediately eased himself upon the bench, laying his nimble fingers over the cold ivory, as if the slightest touch would awaken the dormant musical lover.

A melody sprang forth, dark and repressed, fueled by the sorrow of heartbreak which he'd never truly mourned and the long suffering that had afflicted him during his captivity. The keys were filled with violent life as they wove a tapestry of sound with deep crescendos and sad soliloquies. However his mind reflected on the events that led to the conception of his child and the dual hopes of life anew, the passion changed to a heavy soulful tune mixed with lighter notes.

Erik played on, heedless of the woman that stood by as his only audience and lost himself to dreams of a future. _"What now?" _he thought as his hands translated the music that had harbored within him for months. _"Do I stay here with Meg and the baby? We cannot raise the child down here, far from the sunshine and dwelling within this moldy tomb. Do I assist them to the surface and flee as soon as they are settled? Do her mother and I conspire to have her committed while we raise the child ourselves? Where do I go from here?"_

He abruptly stopped when he realized he had no answers and looking up, realized Meg was staring at him, a kind of warm compassion radiating from her colorful face.

"How long have you been there?" he questioned gruffly.

"I don't know. You made time stand still. That music that you were playing, it was so haunting," she responded softly, quite entranced by Erik's powerful and creative genius.

"How do you feel?"

"The pain has stopped. I suppose I have you to thank for that," she admitted shyly.

"Perhaps. Did you drink the teak from your bedside?"

"You mad me tea?" Meg smiled at Erik's thoughtfulness.

"Yes, it contains peppermint. It was meant to calm your abdomen."

"How kind of you. It will be cold but I won't let it go to waste." She turned to leave, taking a few steps before stopping and wincing in pain as her hands went to her lower back.

"Are you all right?" Erik asked when he heard her groan. He rose from his seat and went to Meg's side on the bottom step, gently taking her arm and easy her down into a sitting position.

"Yes. My back has been aching for the past few months from the extra weight that I've been carrying."

"How do you alleviate the pain? Do you know of any easy techniques to loosen the muscles in your back?"

She laughed. "I haven't danced in months. There have been days where I haven't wanted to get out of bed and it was real struggle."

His eyebrows furrowed and he was clearly concerned. If the baby came early, he wanted to be prepared should he have to deliver the child prematurely. "You need to see the doctor again. Perhaps it is best of we move back above ground," he advised cautiously.

"I don't want to stay up there!" she reeled instantly. Erik became alarmed as the calm traces of the Meg that had appeared recently had quickly dissolved and turned into the mad woman who had been responsible for his kidnapping. "I like the solitude down here and I can't have my mother finding me, especially in this condition. She'd take my baby and lock me away forever!"

"Trust me, Meg, I can't let you and the baby risk being down here!"

"Last time I trusted you it very nearly killed me!" she yelled and crossing her arms over her chest, she rose and hobbled a few steps before Erik grabbed her shoulders.

"Now is not the time to discuss what happened because it will adversely put your lives in jeopardy. Allow me to bring you above ground for at least a doctor's visit and possibly longer depending on the health restrictions that he puts in place; though be warned I find it highly unlikely that he will permit you to walk down hundreds of stairs to deliver a baby under ground."

"Fine," she admitted begrudgingly. "But who is to say that we can even see a doctor today?"

"If that is the case then we will stay in a hotel until a visit can take place," he smiled smugly at her groan of indignation.

"You don't even care about this baby. You don't want it so I don't see why you are so adamant about our safety," she mumbled. Choosing to avoid another confrontation and risk making her even angrier, Erik chose to ignore the comment.

He allowed Meg another opportunity to rest before their trek out of the bowels of the opera house. He knew it would be an arduous journey for Meg, who though of athletic form, was understandably encumbered. As he gathered together a comfortable sum of money and comprised a bag of clothes for them, Erik couldn't help but tear up at the notion that for the first time in close to a year that he would see daylight again. He wanted to check in on his home and his friendly neighbors, and truthfully Meg should be so accommodating at the least, but this trip was mainly for her welfare and it would not do so well to put her body at stress in her final trimester. He realized that he should count his blessings at all that she'd released him from the cell, not to mention the fact that she was trusting him enough on the surface.

When he had finished packing a few days worth of clothes for each of them, he gently woke Meg from her light slumber. "Is there anything you might need before we head out?" he asked tenderly. She yawned and shook her head and they both set out to walk the long corridors and avoid Erik's traps, which both of them knew were still very active.


	22. Chapter 22

Erik knew it would take at least a few hours to make it to the surface, let alone to their destination. When we was still an active resident, he would have to plan his activities around the time it would take him to get to and from his home, and one thing Erik absolutely abhorred was tardiness. As expected, the climb up the hard uneven stairs was quite taxing on Meg's body, and they had to stop frequently for her to catch her breath.

"You never thought to put in a bench or even landings on these steps?" Meg seethed between heaving breaths.

"Forgive me," he replied casually as he shifted the heavy torch to this other hand. "I had never anticipated escorting a woman so far along with child up and down five cellars."

"You're so sour," she muttered before pausing to rest on the step. Erik stopped as well, setting the sack down that contained their spare clothes and leaned against the craggy rock wall. "How much farther do we have to go?"

"We are about halfway there."

Meg groaned and stomped her foot indignantly. She couldn't hear the subtle shifting of movement but Erik could and had to react quickly as the gears and mechanisms moved beneath Meg's small feet. He turned around and wrapped his arms around her thick waist just as the floor pulled away to reveal a deep cavern below them.

"I thought you were keeping an eye open for those traps!"

"I'm sorry!" he shouted. "I didn't expect you to throw a tantrum, though I guess I should have expected it. And you're welcome, by the way, that I reacted so quickly."

They were both then aware of their close proximity to each other and Erik realized embarrassingly that his left hand had reached out to grab Meg and had inadvertently latched onto her breast. When he came to his senses, he hastily removed his palm.

"I'm sorry," he stated sheepishly. "It's very unlike me to forget something, especially one of my traps. Please accept my apology."

"F-forgiven," she stammered. He grabbed her hand and they began their ascent once more as Erik remained deep in concentration to remember all of the other traps that had been set.

Meg needed to stop and rest a few more times but at last the bedraggled pair emerged into a drizzly daylight. Erik was disappointed that the sun was not shining, but inhaled deeply to the smells of thoroughbred horses, crisp November air and the scent of baking rolls at the café across the street. They walked calmly into the bustling Parisian street from the back entrance of the opera house and hailed a cab, ordering the driver to the section of the city where Meg had last visited the doctor. Erik stared out the window, a small smile on the face that was hidden beneath a cloak as he greedily viewed the people passing on the streets outside his windows. The shops were familiar amidst the nameless faces of the patrons on the street, and they were a comfort as he realized that the streets above had not changed at all during his imprisonment.

When at last they arrived at the row house where the doctor lived and practiced his trade, Erik was apprehensive about entering someone's home, a courtesy that he could never recall being bestowed to him.

"I'll wait outside, Meg." She turned to face him as she'd been carefully walking up the steps, one arm on the railing and the other supporting her large belly. Erik would have assisted her if he had not been so worried about the meeting.

"Why don't you come inside?" The doctor has a lovely home and he is non-judgmental."

"It is not appropriate for a man to attend such…visits."

Meg smiled and blushed. Erik, despite his insidious reputation, _was_ a gentleman and should have realized that this would be awkward for him. "Don't be silly, I want you there. Besides, when have you known me to follow the conventions of society?"

He ignored her flirtatious comment as an uneasy feeling welled in the pit of his stomach. "I wouldn't know how to act."

"Well Erik, really, you knew how to act to get me in this position in the first place." He glanced around as his face flushed, hoping that no one heard Meg's crass comment. "You're just making excuses now. I'm carrying this baby, the least you can do is join me for a doctor's visit." She stood on the steps, her hands on her hips and looking a very imposing figure as she loomed above him. It was plain to see she was very agitated, a condition Erik did not want to make for her in her already exhausted physical capacity.

"All right," he said, heaving a reluctant sigh. He climbed the steps to join Meg on the landing and she rang the doorbell.

The same maid that had answered the door a few months ago when Meg had first arrived came to the door, but this time she alerted the fatigued couple that Dr. Feuilly was away from his home attending to a patient. "He should be back later this evening if you wish to call on him then."

"Thank you," Meg replied as she didn't bother to hide her disappointment. The made apologized and closed the door as Meg and Erik determined what do to next.

"I'm tired, Erik, and I don't want to go all the way down to your home just to come back."

"I think it would be wise if we checked into a hotel. I am fairly familiar with this part of the city, so I think I may know of a decent establishment in which we can rent a room for the night." They paced along the street until they came across a café and Erik suggested that they grab a bite to eat, since they had not eaten since that morning. The autumn air was chilly with the absence of the sun, so a few of the small wrought iron tables and chairs were placed in side along the wall of the shop, making it slightly cramped as they ordered their afternoon meal.

"How do you feel?" Erik asked when he noted that Meg looked very tired, but hoping to settle down for a relaxing meal.

"My back is aching, but only slightly more than usual. I'm very hungry too, but that will soon be remedied." She glanced up to the door as a man entered the door of the café and her eyes went wide when she realized it was Stefan, who she'd met at Pierre's the night of her rendezvous with Jean. She instantly shrank into herself hoping that he didn't see her face beneath the brown curly wig.

Erik immediately sensed the tension sensing that Meg had recognized someone, albeit very hopeful if it was Meg's mother. "Do you see someone you know?

"Yes," she whispered. "Don't look! He is a man that I used to know from…previous days. His name is Stefan."

"In what way did you know him?" Erik asked suspiciously, wondering if it was one of Meg's previous lovers.

"I met him somewhere. We were going to leave together but were stopped by someone who didn't think I should be leaving with him. Nothing happened between us, if that is what you are getting at, but I do not wish to call attention to ourselves."

The meal had not arrived yet, so a hasty exit was not feasible, especially since they would not be able to navigate the narrow strip of walking space between the tables and the counter without bumping into him.

She reached to pull her cloak tighter, but when she unwittingly turned to grab the right side of her cape, Stefan happened to glance in her direction. Meg began to tremble when she realized that he was walking back toward their table.

"Excuse me, Madame, I don't mean to intrude on your meal, but do you I know you?"

Erik peered at the young man who had intruded upon their privacy and glared daggers at him. "Do you know not know manners, boy? You always allow a lady to speak first before you address her."

"I apologize," Stefan said as he turned back toward Meg. "I just find you familiar looking, like a woman I have been searching for in the past months. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

Though she had gained considerable weight, only a very small portion had filled out her face, and she remained much the same as when she had last seen the inquisitive youth at her side. She kept her facing hidden, though pulled out a few strands of the dark brown curls of the wig to show that she was not the blonde that Stefan was undoubtedly seeking. "No, monsieur, I do not believe that we have met." Erik had to contain his laughter when she delivered a perfect imitation of Carlotta's obnoxious aristocratic and authoritative Italian accent.

"Forgive me, then, I must have you confused with someone else. The young lady I was seeking is French of a fairer complexion."

Meg feigned indignation as she let out a "hmph!" as he walked away. The food arrived at that moment and Erik chuckled softly as Meg began to dive into the food with reckless abandon.

"I never knew you were such a talented actress."

"I can be when the occasion calls for it," she smiled before taking another bite for the puff pastry before her.

Erik leaned back in his chair and smiled at the woman in front of him. It was moments like these when he could appreciate the beauty of the person that Meg was. The mental illness that afflicted her clouded her judgment so often that it was nice to see her act normally when engaged in a conversation or enjoying an outing.

She noticed that he wasn't eating his food yet and stopped, a quizzical expression on her face. "What is wrong, you're not eating?"

"You like nice today Meg," he said simply as he lifted his fork. "Though you look much more beautiful as a blonde."


	23. Chapter 23

_Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. This is the last chapter that I have written in full and I would greatly appreciate if anyone has any ideas as to what should take place after this chapter. The biggest reason as to why I did not update sooner is because I am stuck after this chapter and can't seem to transition where I'd like to go in future chapters, so any input is greatly appreciated! Please submit any ideas to me via PM and I promise I will take any/all of them into consideration! Thank you all for your support with this story!  
_

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Meg didn't catch the name of the hotel as Erik hurriedly ushered her from the cab and through the ornate glass doors. They had finished their afternoon meal and hastily set out to find a place of lodging for the night before it became dark. She entered a rick, yet tastefully decorated lobby with a shimmering crystal chandelier and etched silver mirrors that dazzled with light as they lined the modestly-sized room to make it appear far larger. She seated herself on a blue brocade sofa and waited patiently while Erik inquired about a room. With the exception of being seated on a cloth-covered cushion that barely passed for a seat, Meg had been on her feet most of the day and they had swelled uncomfortably in her boots. She was grateful for the opportunity to finally get some real rest, though the baby's kicking hadn't subsided. The child had become active shortly after they'd emerged from the opera house, perhaps somehow sensing the dramatic change in activity and location, though she'd neglected to tell Erik for fear of upsetting him.

"_I do really wish to see the doctor and have this be done with so that we can go back home."_

It had been an arduous climb up the many flights of stairs from the cellars, but she had acquired Erik's disdain for being around people while she had been secluded away. Though it was a novelty for Erik to see crowds of people again for almost ten months of captivity, she felt like everyone was staring at her for being in a delicate condition with no chaperone, or that they could see through to her real identity of the naïve little ballerina from the Garnier. She wanted to have her baby in Erik's home by the calm little lake where it need only know if his or her parents. She knew that there really should be at least a nurse present, but even if no one was there to assist her, the baby would still come.

Unbeknownst to Meg, Erik was fighting the urge to reserve two rooms, though he knew how distasteful it would look if they saw a man and his pregnant companion check into two separate spaces. Despite his desire, he had indeed booked one room, requesting that it be on the first floor given his wife's special condition. The clerk behind the desk looked suspiciously at his mask and then at the wedding ring missing from Erik's left ring finger. Erik said, "I wear the mask to hide a war injury and the ring is a German custom," he said holding up to show the ring on his right hand. "You might try not to stare next time." He only hoped that no one would look at Meg's hands for he had no desire to give her a ring and bring her under the illusion that they were actually married.

When he had received the key, he saw that Meg was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly out the window. Knowing she would be constantly by his side until the baby was born, he took the opportunity to visit the men's smoking lounge to have a few minutes just to breathe. If anything should happen to her imminently, at least she was in a lobby with a lot of people around to tend to her if necessary.

He opened the heavy oak door and wandered into a room with a dim cloud of smoke. Though he never had any inclination to take up the terrible habit of destroying one's lungs, he found the situation that he was in ironically befitting of a cigar.

"_48 hours ago I was cramped in a small cell, chained to the wall as though I had committed some murderous offense, held at the mercy of an insane young woman who is under the suspicion that she is madly in love with me. Now it has been revealed that in the few times that we were together, she has conceived my child and I am burdened with the knowledge that by my supposed honor, I am to take care of them. Even if I were to turn her over to Antoinette, how could I possibly explain the circumstances under which Meg became pregnant?"_

"You look like you could use a drink!" exclaimed a man as he approached Erik. Startled, Erik looked up to find a man in fancy dress attire holding a brandy in one hand and a fine cigar in the other.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry to disrupt you, but you looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders. It's not some damn woman trouble, is it?" he asked with a laugh.

"Isn't it always?"

The rotund elderly man boomed with laughter and clapped Erik on the back, demanding that they sit and have a glass. "Whatever it is, it can always be discussed and rectified with the company of a good friend."

Erik hated the idea of this man whom he'd just met assuming himself to be his friend, but smiled weakly. "Thank you, perhaps another time. My wife is waiting for me in the lobby and I really must see us to our room."

"Ah, newlyweds? Are you eager to get started on the honeymoon?" he chuckled again.

"Not quite. She is…with child," Erik replied, not quite sure how to put it delicately.

"Well it looks like the honeymoon served its purpose! If you're not too tired or busy later this evening, feel free to come down here. I'm afraid this is the only place I'll be, seeing as my wife passed away three years ago."

"I'm sorry for your loss. Perhaps I will return later to ensure that you are not lonely."

"Very well then! Oh, and my name is Dr. Andre Théry," he introduced as he extended his hand.

"I am Erik. Just Erik, no fancy titles attached," he replied as he took Andre's hand. He sensed that Andre was going to inquire about the mask, but turned and left before the stranger could get a chance.

Meg was impatient with Erik but too tired to go up to the counter to see what could be the issue. She looked up to see him sauntering toward her from the hallway just off the main lobby. "Where have you been?" she demanded as she struggled to her feet.

"I obtained a room on the first floor so that you don't have to walk up anymore stairs. I can't imagine that you're adventurous enough to try it again." She rolled her eyes and waddled down toward their room as he strolled behind her with their small bags in tow.

They were fortunate enough to a first class room that had a private bath, something that Erik had insisted and was willing to pay for with a dramatic increase in price. Meg declined to get into the cramped tub with her body feeling sour enough as it was and lay down on the bed to take a nap while Erik bathed himself properly for the first time in months.

He stripped himself of the clothes that he had put on freshly that morning and sank gratefully into the warm water. The bathtub was not as nice as the one that he had designed and created himself in his subterranean home, but it would suffice for a few nights. Erik scrubbed his skin and was delighted to see it turn from a pale gray to looking pink and far more natural. He leaned back and savored another small opportunity to be by himself and absent of chains, allowing the heat and quietness afford him peace for the first time in the day.

The door creaked and he opened his eyes to see Meg standing in the doorway, her face expressionless. A feeling of fear quickly crept into him and it was a few moments before he realized he should grab a cloth to cover his modesty. If Meg had sunk back into her troubled state of mind, he was trapped here in this bathtub with literally nothing on him and back into a corner.

"What do you want?" he asked more coldly than he had desired.

"How long are you going to be in here?" she asked blandly.

"I don't know. I have not been in here that long and I thought you were going to take a nap."

"I feel like something is wrong."

"With the baby?" Erik asked worriedly, immediately springing to rise from the tub.

"No, the baby is fine," she assured. "You are not going to leave me, are you?"

Erik was caught off guard. The thought had crossed his mind many times, but he had not made a final decision as to whether he should leave Paris, leave the hotel to look for Antoinette or stay with Meg until the baby was born and decide from there. "No, I won't leave," he said simply as their eyes met with their own mixed fears clearly visible to the other.

"Good. I think I can rest easy now." She turned from the doorway but it was plain to see that she was neither satisfied nor trusting.

The water was already turning cold, though Erik could not pinpoint if it was the temperature of the water or if it was because he was filled with dread, so he emerged from the bathwater, which was now the same color that his skin had been, and hastily dressed before he joined Meg in the bedroom.

"What do you want me to do, Meg?" he growled as he came to face her.

She turned her face to him and was again afraid at the calculating gaze she gave him. "What do you want to do, Erik? You are above ground, you are not bound here or to me, and you have the room key in your pocket. As far as I can tell, you are free to go."

"What?"

"You have said many times that you want neither me nor this baby. You have lured me up here under the false pretense that we would see a doctor and now you are in a position where your freedom surrounds you. You can go home, live life in the country with your Allison and sire a child on her too."

"Allison is gone, Meg. She was betrothed to another man and she left France months ago, and she probably has her own children."

"Was there anything between you two?"

"We had a fancy for each other, but there was nothing but some friendly dialogue between us and when I learned that she was to be married, I let her go with no altercation or hard feelings. I don't know how you know of her, but please don't harbor jealous resentment of her as you do for Christine."

"Don't mention her name again!" Meg screamed as she covered her ears and dove into the blankets.

"When are you going to grow up and learn from your own actions? Just because you want something to happen doesn't mean that you can will it so! Christine is long gone and has forgotten us both, so do the same courtesy and leave her alone. If I chose to leave it is my own decision and you cannot fault me for wanting to do so, nor can your attempts at trying to make me feel guilty prevent me from staying." Erik knew he should stop for fear of getting Meg worked up and putting her life in danger, but the transitions between hot and cold with her had finally taken its toll over the long hard months he had faced. "You are pregnant from your own carelessness and delusions of what life would be like. If I did choose to leave, what would happen to you? You would be saddled with a child that you would soon realize was unwanted by _both_ parents involved and when the hardships had taken finally proven too much, the one to suffer the most would be the child. These were not the circumstances under which I wanted to become a father and I should not be expected to act the role out of an event that was not of my choosing!"

"You are careless and a despicable disgrace to the human population," she seethed. Her face had turned maroon and she dug her nails into the fabric of the bed spread. "You take what you will and then you abandon me. The words you speak should come naturally to you, seeing as most of them are exactly what you did with Christine. You brainwashed and manipulated her and if given the chance, you would have bedded her and filled her with your seed to make her stay out of sheer desperation of nowhere else to go. I will not let you make me think for one second that this baby was a mistake, even if you hate this child as your own mother hated you."

The last words that spewed from her mouth stung like venom to the core of Erik's heart. Though her words with twisted in anger, he found that she was right. He already had preconceived notions about the feelings he would have for his child and it was wrong to assume that just because he had not wanted the child it would mean he was not the father. This child was equally a part of him.

But he refused to let Meg have the upper hand and see that he understood her logic. He grabbed his coat and exited the room, allowing the door to slam thunderously upon his exit.


End file.
